Fallout: Displacement
by bale626
Summary: After a failed Vault experiment, an entire D.C. block is displaced in both time and space, to a world where everything is dangerous, and where fate is anything but fair. S/I, A/U
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Ok, so this started out as the first chapter to a different story, but Fanfic (dt) net decided to be ass holes and erase the story for no good reason. So I'm reusing most of this chapter for a different story, simply because I didn't have much motivation for the other one.

And yes, I know this isn't my main story, Into the Fire, but trying to put all my focus onto that more often than not leads me to have month(s) long hiatus's from writing at all, which I know no-one likes.

* * *

Fallout: Displacement

Chapter 1

"Overseer, are you sure this is a good idea? We still aren't sure what exactly this device even is, let alone what it does; to activate it prematurely-"

"I don't care! Our instructions were particularly clear: regardless of the condition of the war, we are to activate the device immediately upon completion. These designs were drawn up by some of the best and brightest minds in the history of mankind."

The scientist let out a scoff, "Yes, and for all their intelligence, even the best and brightest of them could only shrug his shoulders as to what this device may do; and with the bombs having dropped, what will it matter to anyone above if we don't activate it?"

The Overseer's eyes narrowed. "It is our duty, and our job. We knew the risks when we signed on in the first place. The time for discussion is long since over; activate it."

With a sigh, he nodded, "As you wish, Overseer."

Power began to flow through the wires and conduits, bathing the entire room in an eerie blue light. The monstrosity of a construct began to hum, intermittently flashing. Lines of digital code flashed over the computer screens, flying across at phoenominal speeds. As it continued to build power, the scientist began to mutter under his breath. Turning, the Overseer asked, "What is it?"

"The power buildup, it's accelerating, much faster than it's supposed to."

"Well, cut back on the power feed."

The scientist swore, "We can't, sir; the device is hooked directly to the Vault's reactor, and there's no way to adjust how much power it draws, or how quickly it draws it."

The Overseer began examining the monitors himself, "Well, what _can _we do?"

The scientist was quiet for a moment, prompting the Overseer to turn and look at him. Looking at the machinery, he let out a sigh, before dropping down into a nearby seat. "We sit back, watch, and pray that it finishes whatever it's doing without turning the Vault into a radioactive pit, or completely suck the reactor dry."

The two of them sat in almost complete silence as the device in the center of the room continued to collect more power, glowing brighter and brighter, until it hurt to stare at it directly. As the hum increased to a roar, the scientist let out a sigh, barely audible over the equipment. "We never should have toyed with equipment of another world; not like this. With any luck, our mistake will not condemn anyone outside this vault."

The Overseer laid a hand on his subordinate's shoulder. "One can only hope. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Mere moments later, the alien device went dark, before erupting in a burst of light an energy, vaporizing everything within three miles, as an energy wave shot out from the epicenter, moving through the very fabric of the time-space continuum.

* * *

Michael Thompson let out a sigh as he shifted his backpack, doing his best not to stare at anyone else on the public bus. It was his third week in Washington D.C., and he was headed home from his office next to the Capital Building. His apartment was located near the West Falls Church metro line, but that section of the subway was currently closed for construction, and would be for another few weeks. It was because of this that Mike was forced to ride on the bus. He hated it, being forced to ride the bus that smelled distinctly of both urine, and some kind of decaying rodent.

Mike was glad for the opportunity he had, working in D.C. for his internship, but times like this just made him wish he had taken one of the other opportunities available to him. 'I could have gone to Cedar Point and worked; hell, the way things have been going lately, I probably should have. With as bad as it's been, could it possibly get any worse?'

A few moments later, a bright flash of light caught his attention, and his eyes shot up towards the front of the bus, in time to see some kind of light expanding in front of the bus, quickly engulfing it and the vehicles around them. The next thing he knew, the bus was jarring up and down, practically throwing everyone from their seats, before finally grinding to a halt. With a groan, Mike lifted his head from the back of the seat in front of him, wiping a slight stream of blood from his eyes, dripping down from his forehead. Looking around, he almost instinctively jumped to his feet, moving towards the front of the bus.

Dropping down next to the downed bus driver, he quickly checked his pulse, his Boy Scout training kicking in. "Sir, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

The man let out a moan, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head. Trying to keep from moving him too much, Mike could see a very large gash across the side of his head, his face and arms peppered with cuts from the broken glass, the crimson standing out against his black skin. He tried not to grimace at the sight of the driver's broken arm, bone protruding from just above the elbow. He continued to try to assess the man's injuries, until cries and screams from the rest of the bus finally diverted his attention. Rising from a crouch, Mike stood up and looked out the smashed front window, only for his mind to go completely blank.

There, in front of him, was a juxaposition of scenery; to either side of the bus, were the fronts of the buildings they had been passing between before the bright flash of light. The road was broken up, and vehicles all around them were at varying angles, as though the ground had shifted beneath them. Beyond twenty feet, however, his mind tried to refuse what it was seeing; it was as though the road just stopped, and there was only dirt and rocks as far as he could see, hills and what seemed to be burned out trees.

After a few moments, he heard a siren blip, something he knew police would do occasionally to get people's attention, simply tapping their emergency sirens rather than simply turning them on. Looking out the left side of the vehicle, he saw a pair of police cruisers, as well as a SWAT van, pointed in the opposite direction. He couldn't help but smirk, knowing they must have been heading towards downtown D.C. when the flash had happened. Glancing back into the bus, he called out, "Does anyone here have medical training?"

After a few moments, a middle aged woman came forward, gently pushing him away from the bus driver. "I can help him; see if anyone else needs any help."

Mike nodded, and as he stood up, he glanced out the front of the window, only to gape as he saw smoke rising from the car in front of the bus. With a swift kick to the door, he knocked it open, practically jumping out the doorway. Barely keeping his balance, he managed to slide to a stop next to the car, seeing a young woman frantically beating on the window of the door to her car. Examining the ground around him, he bent down, picking up a jagged piece of asphalt. He yelled through the door to her, "Turn your head away!"

She did as he said, and he smashed the chunk of asphalt into the window. The first hit caused the window to fracture, spider-webbing all across its surface. With the second hit, the glass broke into a million pieces. Without waiting, Mike reached into the car, hitting the release to her seat belt. The girl clung to him as he pulled her out of the window, gasping as her leg pulled against the edge of the glass. As he pulled her away from the quickly burning car, she cried out, "My dog! Spike!"

Mike grimaced, but it quickly turned into a smirk as a Siberian Husky jumped out the broken window, quickly moving to the girl's side, barking at the loud commotion being caused by whatever had just happened to them all. Within seconds, the interior of her car burst into flames, likely exhaserbated by the open window providing extra ventilation. The girl clung to his arm, sobbing. He simply wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her as she cried. While he stood there, Mike looked closer out past the edge of the road, examining the terrain. Looking at what he could see, something seemed to itch just at the back of his mind, something familiar about the terrain itself, bugging him. After a moment, a voice calling out caught his attention, and he turned in time to see a police officer running up to him.

"I just saw what you did, kid; nice job."

Mike just shook his head, "I just did what I could."

Glancing around, the officer asked, "Do you have any emergency training?"

First shaking his head, Mike stopped, considering, before shrugging. "I was a boy scout; beyond that, not too much. I can perform basic first aid, and I can handle a gun well enough."

The officer waved him to follow, speaking while they walked, the girl walking with Mike, "Good enough; your little display there shows that you don't panic in an emergency, and I'll trust a kid with a little experience and a clear head over an expert that panics."

Nearing the back of the SWAT van, Mike barely had time to register what was going on before a gun was being pushed into his hands. Looking down, he realized they were handing him a police grade shotgun and pistol, as well as a bullet-proof vest. Looking up, questioningly, the SWAT trooper spoke, "We've got no idea what's going on out here; every radio frequency has gone silent, and beyond what appears to be a single block radius, all signs of civilisation just disappear. We're arming whoever we can to help mount a defense against whatever might be outside our little slice of humanity."

With a grunt, Mike slipped the vest over his head after setting his pack on the ground, before asking, "Has anyone scouted out the area?"

The police officer from before nodded, "My partner went out past the end of the road to check for the high ground-"

They all stopped at the sound of gunfire. It was quickly followed by yelling. Practically sprinting around the van, Mike rounded the corner in time to see another police officer running at full speed, as though he were running from death itself. The reason for this quickly became apparent, as what appeared to be some kind of mutated _bear _ran over the hill, running for the officer at full speed. Mike ran towards the officer, wanting to close a little bit more distance before firing at the hulking monstrosity to avoid hitting the officer.

He dropped to one knee, mentally recounting the things he had learned in his shooting classes for the rifle and shotgun merit badges, placing the gun in the sweet spot on his shoulder blade, and sighted in on the bear. As soon as the officer was out of his line of fire, he pulled the trigger, launching a slug towards the bear. Although he had aimed for the head, the movement of the bear caused the slug to impact somewhere on the bear's front leg, causing it to immediately drop its front half, skidding to a halt on the asphalt just twenty feet in front of him. Before Mike knew what was going on, the police were moving past him, towards the bear, firing their rounds into the thing's skull. Within moments, the bear shuddered, and died, perforated with high caliber bullets.

Mike let out a long breath, shaking his head to try to clear it from the affects of the adrenaline buzz he was currently feeling from all of the excitement. Standing up, he walked over to the bear's corpse, examining it a bit closer now that it wasn't trying to kill anyone. As he stared at it, something about the bear seemed to be familiar to him, but Mike couldn't quite place it. He stepped up next to the police, all staring at the bear's corpse.

"Jesus, Harry, did you _try _to piss the thing off?"

"Real funny; it was running at me before I fired off a round at it."

"Why in the hell is there a bear this close to D.C., and what even happened with that bright flash, anyways?"

"Where's the rest of the road, or the other buildings?"

Mike just stood there and listened, until one of the other officers came running from their van, his eyes wide, radio in hand. "Guys, you've got to hear this! It's the only working frequency I've found so far!"

The officer cranked up the volume of the hand held radio, and what seemed to be the end of a jazz song was playing. It lasted a few seconds, before a rather loud, boisterous voice sounded out from the radio. "_This is Three Dog, arroooo! Well, boys and girls, for those of you who may be indoors or hiding in a hole somewhere, we're getting reports of a bright flash of light to the west of the D.C. ruins; no word yet as to what could have caused it, but we'll get you the news once we know the news, folks. In other news..._"

Cranking the volume back down, Mike noticed that all of the officers had wide eyes, disbelieving what they had just heard. Mike, however, had stopped listening around the time he heard the name Three Dog. Looking down at the bear, he suddenly realized why it looked so damn familiar. 'A Yao Guai. Great.' Glancing around, Mike began to walk towards the edge of the road, keeping a wary eye for whatever might come over the hill next. Bending down, he examined the road, looking from left to right. He furrowed his brow as he realized the edge was round, as though there was a circle around their little corner of modern D.C. dropped into this wasteland.

The more he continued to think, the more he felt as though he were going to go completely ape-shit. He violently shook his head, 'Get ahold of yourself, Mike; going catatonic won't help you, or anyone else. None of these people are ready to face the wasteland; none of them have even the slightest clue what they're going to face out here. You can panic later.'

Focusing on that, Mike stood back up, and moved back towards the circle of police officers, all standing and arguing. He let out a shrill whistle, gaining their attention. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I know where we're at."

One of the officer's scoffed, "If you're going to say Fallout, I say you're crazy; Bill over there was arguing the same thing."

The officer that must have been Bill nodded emphatically, "My son plays that game all the time. I've had to listen to it in the evenings, the damn game audio. I'm telling you, that's how I know who Three Dog is!"

Mike nodded, "He's right." The other officers all turned their attention to him. Pointing to the bear, he continued, "Notice how that thing has white eyes and almost no fur? That's the lasting effect of the radiation in the area. The people here call them Yao Guai. If you look over that hill, I'd bet you the shirt off my back that you'll see the destroyed remnants of Washington D.C., over two hundred years after this place was bathed in nuclear fire. The tallest thing will be the Washington Monument, pockmarked with holes from age."

One of the more skeptical officers just shook his head, "There's no way that could be true. It's a video game!"

Mike shot him a glare, "Ok then, all of you, quiet; tell me what you hear." The officers all fell silent, and the people around them followed suit, having been listening on the conversation.

Aside from a few cars still running, no other sounds could be heard, aside from the wind. One of the officers spoke, "I don't hear anything."

Mike continued, "There's nothing else to hear, because there's hardly anything else alive out there."

The police officers were all quiet, looking between themselves. Eventually, one of them turned to Mike, a woman in SWAT gear, "So... what do we do?"

Mike shrugged, "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure. I doubt we're safe here, though."

"Why?"

"First, we have no defensive positions; the roads are wide open, which would allow anyone or anything to waltz right in here. Second, we have no large store of food supplies. Third, and probably the most important, all water here is slightly irradiated, and we have no way of easily acquiring purified water." Glancing around, Mike took stock of the vehicles still running. "The best option we have would be to quickly pull out everything we've got from these buildings by way of food and water, clothing would be secondary. Weapons and ammo would be almost more important than food. We load up into whatever vehicles we've got that will drive off road, and we make a break for the east; most of the local settlements are due east of here, more than likely. The settlement that will be the easiest to get into would be a small hovel known as Big Town; they're the weakest, the most pressed upon settlement, and the most likely to willingly let a large group of armed people in. Food and water would become a big concern after that, but trust me, the first thing you'll want is walls between you and everything out here that wants to eat you alive."

The skeptical officer from before piped up, "How do you know all this? How could you _possibly _know any of what you're saying?"

Mike smirked, "Simple; I played this game through at least a dozen times. I know where good supply caches are, hiding places, and I know the lay of the land pretty well. Being a total gaming nerd has its occasional perks." With a sigh, he turned away from the group, staring out at the wasteland past their street, before finishing, "That's all I can really tell you. I'm not much of a leader; these people will listen to you. Just make it quick, as everyone and everything within ten miles will soon be crawling all over us to see what that bright flash was."

The police officers eventually all nodded, and quickly moved off to organize and gather all of the civilians in the area. Mike just stood there, looking out into the wasteland, the shotgun hung over his shoulder by a strap, his backpack still resting on his back. After a few moments, he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned, only to see the girl he had rescued. She spoke as soon as they locked eyes. "I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. If you hadn't come when you did..."

Mike gently patted the girl's shoulder, smiling slightly, "Don't worry about it; it's just good that you're ok." After a moment, his half grin turned into a smirk, "Both you and your dog."

They shared a short laugh, before she spoke again, "My name's Jane; I'm sure Spike is happy you saved us too."

After a moment, he let out a sigh, before turning towards the interior of their temporary haven. "Well, let's go help find supplies; we'll need them out here."

As she fell in step with him, she asked, "Do you know where we are?"

Mike let out a sigh, before launching into an explanation of where he thought they were, the two of them moving towards the buildings still standing around them.

* * *

Defender Anne Marie Morgan grimaced as she shifted the laser rifle in her grip, continuing to plod along. "Why exactly are we going to check out this bright flash you saw?"

Defender Rococo Rockfowl grinned beneath his helmet, "Because Casdin wants us to check it out; it could be a Vertibird crashed down, or something equally drastic, and there might be technology to salvage."

Morgan just shook her head. "You know this could just be a wild goose chase, right? I mean, this is the ass end of the Capital Wasteland; nothing exciting ever happens way out here."

Rockfowl just shrugged, "Casdin thinks it's worth checking out. Look on the bright side, it's something new to do."

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

The two of them fell into a companionable silence, walking through the quite dead brush weeds, their power armored boots kicking up puffs of dust with each step. Morgan noticed a few wild dogs, but the beasts were smart enough to know that humans in power armor weren't exactly 'easy prey,' and left them alone. As they crossed yet another hill, both of them stopped suddenly, their minds trying to wrap around the sight in front of them.

There appeared to be buildings, practically dropped down out in the middle of nowhere, all shining and gleaming and new-looking. Upon closer inspection, however, it looked as though the buildings were picked up inside of a bubble, as every single building had some section sheared off, and the perimeter of the entire group of buildings appeared to be perfectly circular. Morgan had trouble finding her voice at first, "Uh... R-Rock..."

The other man nodded, not turning his eyes away from the sight in front of them. "I see it, Anne. I see it, but I don't believe it."

As they stood there, Morgan noticed something even more important than the sight itself. "Rock, there's people down there!"

"I see that, too. But there's a problem, Anne." She turned to him, her questioning gaze hidden by her helmet, but the other man continued, regardless. "There's Deathclaws over there to the west, and they're headed straight for 'em."

Morgan spun, looking left and right for it, before the shifting shapes caught her eye, and she counted at least three or four of them. "Well fuck; now what?"

Rockfowl primed his gatling laser, before chuckling mirthfully, "I say we go huntin' for some 'claws. Those people could have valuable tech, and it's not every day people seem to magically appear out of thin air with shiny toys."

* * *

Mike let out a grunt as he helped load another box of supplies into a jeep, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He couldn't help but glare at the sun, beating down on them. He adjusted the pack on his back, now weighing down more since he had ditched the college books for ammo, food, and water bottles taken from the gas station that had somehow been lucky- or unlucky- enough to get brought along with them. He noticed Jane standing nearby, seemingly watching him. Since he had rescued her from the burning car, she seemed to be following him around more, staying close to him. Looking closer at her, he took the time to really notice the small details about her; her blue eyes, brown hair, and white skin.

He was about to walk over to her to talk to her, when he heard someone behind him start to scream. Spinning around, his hands were already grabbing his shotgun when he froze in place, his eyes wide at the sight in front of him. There, not more than forty feet away, were a trio of Deathclaws, moving slowly into the street. Seeing everyone else frozen in place, staring at the three beasts, Mike was silently glad for the can of tear gas he had "borrowed" from the SWAT van, and ever so slowly pulled it from the strap on his pack.

He slowly walked towards Jane, keeping his eyes on the Deathclaws, all of whom were standing in place, likely trying to decide who to attack first. As he got close to the girl, he spoke, quietly, "Jane, once I throw this thing, I'm going to try and get their attention. Make sure those police officers get as many people out of here while they can. I'll try to lead them off."

The girl shifted her gaze from the Deathclaws to him, "How? Those things look like they could outrun any person on foot!"

Mike nodded slowly, "Yeah, they can. That's why I'm going to grab that dirt bike over there."

Without another word, Mike counted to three in his head, before pulling the pin on the tear gas canister, immediately chucking it at the three Deathclaws. All three of them snapped their attention to the sudden movement, only to shift their eyes to the small object flying at them, landing a few feet in front of them. The closest one put its nose close to it, trying to figure out what the small, unfamiliar canister could be, before it went off with a hiss, a cloud quickly forming around it. Within moments, the Deathclaws were roaring in pain and annoyance.

As soon as he could hear the roars, Mike took off running for the dirt bike, gripping the straps on his backpack tightly. Skidding to a stop next to the bike, he yanked the keys off the chain hanging from the handle bars, and started the ignition as he jumped onto the bike. He looked over, just as the first Deathclaw jumped through the tear gas, clearly pissed off. Without thinking, he brought the shotgun up, firing off a single round at the monstrosity. It roared, even more pissed, before turning to see where the shot had come from. Dropping the gun and allowing it to fall against his back, held in place by the shoulder strap, Mike slammed on the throttle, the dirt bike nearly careening out of control at the sudden burst of acceleration.

He didn't dare look back at first, focusing solely on keeping control of the bike on the rough terrain. He mentally thanked whoever had owned this bike had been thoughtful enough to keep it fueled up and in working condition. Clearing a large hill, Mike was glad to hit a level patch of ground. Cruising at speed, he risked a glance over his shoulder, only to swear loudly and profusely; two of the original three Deathclaws were tailing him, beginning to gain on him in a dead run. He could tell, even in that short glance, which one was the one that he had shot, blood coating one side of its face. Mike almost swore it looked as though he had shot off one of the horns on its head, but he wasn't going to spend enough time examining it; he was more concerned with getting as far away from it as humanly possible.

He figured his goal would be to head for Megaton, or somewhere in that direction, where he could find someone or something else to help take down the Deathclaws. Thankfully, the route in front of him seemed clear enough, and he continued pouring the throttle into the bike, only risking a glance every once in a while. Even running the bike at full speed, the two Deathclaws continued to slowly gain on him, to the point where he could almost feel their breath on his back. Taking a risk, he veered sharply to the left, the back wheel skidding across the dirt, heading for what appeared to be a cliff edge. He smirked to himself as he heard the two Deathclaws run into each other, each trying to adjust their course at the same time and failing miserably at it.

Slowing slightly, he came up to the cliff, and breathed a sigh of relief as he found a pathway leading down into a valley, Megaton's signature wall in the distance. Without pausing, he gunned the throttle, taking the pathway down into the canyon. Hearing a roar behind him, he didn't dare slow down, his adrenaline spiking as he dodged around various rocks and other pieces of debris. Hitting a relatively straight stretch, he risked a glance behind him. He was rewarded with the knowledge that only one Deathclaw was following him now; the one he had shot. He muttered to himself as he spun back around, "Naturally, the one I piss off is the one that'll chase me to hell and back."

He swung past the entrance of Megaton, mildly hoping the 'Claw would be distracted by their robotic guard long enough for him to escape, but a single explosion and a clanking of metal dashed that hope. As he rode the dilapidated road, he could hear the beasts' claws clicking against the asphalt. The gears in his head spun rapidly as he tried to formulate a new plan. He almost lost control of the bike when the idea hit him, rather suddenly. 'The Citadel! I'll go to the Brotherhood! They could help us, maybe even grant all of us sanctuary!'

His resolve firmed, he continued past the Super-Duper Mart, ignoring the yells of panic coming from the raiders as they saw him, then the Deathclaw directly behind him. He considered crossing the bridge, but remembered at the last second which side of the river the former Pentagon was situated on, and instead veered to the right, again throwing the Deathclaw off his back momentarily.

As he neared a large building, the first one in the series of ruins, his gut knotted up, his brow furrowing as he tried to remember what group of enemies usually would spawn there. The question was answered for him as he heard a loud yell, "Puny human! I see you!"

He swore loudly as he saw a pair of Super Mutants turning away from the river, pointing their guns at him. He felt his face pale as he saw the Gatling laser the larger mutant was holding. However, they both turned their guns, their eyes growing wider, as they noticed his running mate. The larger one yelled out to the smaller one, "Ignore human, shoot the tooth lizard!"

Mike felt like laughing manically as they poured weapons fire into the Deathclaw, finally and successfully diverting the monstrosity's attention from him, as he continued to speed down the road, the dirt bike's engine echoing loudly through the ruins. His glee turned to simple amusement as he noticed people and creatures alike coming out of every nook and crevice of the ruins, looking for the source of the loud and foreign noise. All of them simply stood and stared once they noticed him, each one simply curiously watching him as he drove past. Even a few groups of raiders simply watched him drive past, their wide eyes visible even from a distance.

He slowed the bike down as the Citadel came into view, rounding the corner around what remained of a large bridge. Reaching a small, rickety bridge, he slowed the bike to near crawl, warily eyeing the Brotherhood soldiers standing at the entrance to the former Pentagon, their guns at the ready, watching him approach. Coming to a stop approximately twenty or so feet from them, he turned the engine off, and slowly got off the bike, not wanting to startle the soldiers into shooting him. The soldier with no helmet stepped closer, his curiosity evident as he stared at the bike and rider alike. "State your business, outsider."

Mike chose his next words very carefully, "I would like to speak with your leader. I came from the center of the bright light event earlier, and was pointed this way to seek help."

The soldier's brow furrowed, "Seek help?"

Nodding, Mike continued, "A group of people, similar to myself, were dropped from our world into this barren wasteland. I'm looking for someone who can help us, give us refuge, that sort of thing."

"The Brotherhood of Steel is not in the business of providing refuge to outsiders. Do you have any proof? Or even anything of value?"

Mike nodded again, "Yes; we have technology, different than any you've likely ever seen." To demonstrate, he slowly pulled his iPhone out of his pocket, nearly smiling at the gasps he heard from the soldiers as he turned it on. "This is just an example of our technology. For instance, this bike that I rode here on uses a petroleum based fuel, unlike the wrecked vehicles I've noticed sporting the nuclear symbols on their sides."

The helmetless soldier looked him up and down a moment, before speaking, "Wait here." He turned, and walking towards the wall, began speaking into the intercom. Mike's attention, however, was diverted, looking at the computerized weapon emplacements surrounding the base, each one menacing looking in their own rights. After a moment, a deafening grinding noise caught his attention, his head spinning back around. The soldier stepped up close to him, calling out above the noise, "Follow me!"

Tightly gripping the handlebars, Mike pushed the bike along as best he could, barely managing to keep his balance between the dirt bike, his backpack, and the SWAT shotgun hanging from his shoulder. Two soldiers pushed open the doors in front of them, giving him a view of the interior of the Citadel. He couldn't help but swallow reflexively in nervousness as he saw Elder Lyons, Scribe Rothschild, and what could only be the entirety of Lyon's Pride, weapons pointed at him, all standing in a semi-circle around the entrance. He tried his best not to jump as he heard the double doors slam closed behind him.

The elder was quick to speak once the noise died down. "Who are you, boy, and why did you come to us?"

Glancing around at the group, he replied, "I think this conversation would be better off held somewhere private. If you'd like, I'd be perfectly willing to hand over my guns and bike to do so."

Elder Lyons eyed him up, likely looking for signs of deceit, before nodding. "Acceptable; Sarah, please relieve our guest of his weapons, then escort him down to the Den. I will be waiting there."

Without further preamble, the leader of the Brotherhood of Steel spun around and walked away, leaving his daughter to step forward, holding her hands out expectantly. Mike quickly pulled the shotgun off his shoulder, handing it to her, followed by the pistol hanging from his hip and the bandoleer he had been given by the police officers, holding all of his ammo. After a moment's thought, he reached down and pulled out his boot knife strapped to his ankle, and placed it atop the guns, much to Sarah's apparent amusement.

She turned, and called out, "Paladin Dusk, escort our guest down to the Lyons Den."

One of the soldiers in full power armor stepped forward, and nodded, "As you wish, Sentinel." Mike made himself act surprised, as though he didn't know it was a woman beneath the helmet. The last thing he wanted was everyone knowing where he was from; or more importantly, what he knew about them. The woman turned and looked at him, probably smirking beneath her helmet. "What, did you think we were all men beneath the suits of armor?"

Mike shrugged, "I didn't really know what to expect, actually."

Dusk laughed, before waving him on, "Well then, you're in good company to set the example… what is your name, actually?"

He held out his hand as he walked next to her, shifting his weight slightly to keep his backpack from sliding off his shoulders, "Mike; Mike Thompson."

"Alright Mike, this way. A word to the wise, don't touch anything."

The reason for the warning was quickly apparent, as he saw the various pieces of equipment strewn about the halls of the interior of the Citadel, with soldiers patrolling to and fro. A few twists and turns later, and Mike found himself ushered into a large conference room, two chairs having been placed in the center of two half-circle desks, facing each other. Elder Lyons was sitting in one chair, and gestured to the opposite chair. "Take a seat, young man."

As he did so, he heard the door close, realizing that he had been put into the room with the elder, alone. Setting his bag down next to the chair, he shifted a little, making himself more comfortable. That comfort quickly faded as Lyons simply stared at him for a few minutes. Finally, Mike risked asking, "Sir?"

The elder spoke, then, "Now then, I would like you to explain who you are, and how you knew to come here." Seeing the look on Mike's face, he continued, "If what you say is true, that you did come from the bright light event, then you would not have had enough time to talk to anyone else, and especially not anyone who would have pointed you to us. So I say again, please be honest with me, and tell me the truth."

Mike let out a sigh, sagging further into his chair. "Sir, you wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

Owen Lyons merely raised an eyebrow, "You might be surprised what I may or may not believe."

With a long glance at the ceiling, he grunted as he sat up. "Ok, it's like this; I was riding a public bus just outside downtown D.C., leaving work and heading home because the subways were closed. It was the year twenty twelve. The next thing I know, there's a bright flash, and an entire city block gets dropped smack in the barren expanse of the Capital Wasteland. The reason I know what it's called is because in my world, on my Earth, the Capital Wasteland existed only as a story in a videogame called Fallout Three. It's how I knew the Brotherhood of Steel was stationed in the ruins of the Pentagon, how I knew the route to get here, and any other myriad of information I have regarding the D.C. area in this world."

Elder Lyons, while clearly surprised, was also visibly intrigued. "Is that so? Do you have any proof of this?"

With a shrug, Mike elaborated, "Well, I know that the Brotherhood came from a group of deserters from the Mariposa military installation, and that on two separate occasions received help from two individuals from vaults, one being the Vault Dweller, the other being the Chosen one. I know that you rescued about a dozen children from the Pitt after the Scourge, and that one of the soldiers you left behind, a Paladin named Ashur, took over there and has rebuilt the Pitt using raiders and slave labor. Oh, and I know where the Enclave bases are in the Capital Wasteland." Seeing the look on the Elder's face, he smirked, reaching down to open his bag, "And if that's not enough, I can guarantee you've never seen anything like this."

With that, he pulled out his iPad, doing his best not to laugh at the look on his face as he turned the device on. He handed the device to Elder Lyons, who gingerly took it from him, his eyes wide with childish wonder, his hands working across the device. "My word…"

Mike continued, "The controls are gesture based, so swiping will move the display, as well as other motions. That is the kind of technology from my Earth, where China and America are not at war with one another; actually, in my world, China manufactures those and other things for American companies. That, and the nineteen fifties happy-go-lucky mentality didn't last in my world; it turned into a much grittier and darker place. Although, in my world we weren't on the brink of nuclear war, either…"

After a moment, Lyons looked up at him, a light to his eye that hadn't been there before. "What is it you want, my boy?"

Shrugging, he replied, "Help; for me, and for those who were stranded like me. We were dropped somewhere between Fort Independence and Megaton. Beyond that, maybe just a bed, some food, somewhere safe to stay? I mean, I'm sure you don't want us staying here taking up space-"

The elder cut him off, "Child, even if your story is pure fantasy, the fact that you have technology like this makes you valuable, even if only for your knowledge on its inner workings. No, you will stay here, as well as any others who came with you that we can find. I will send out the Pride to bring as many as they can to the Citadel. Now, I will have Dusk take you to a room…?"

Mike stood, extending a hand, "My name's Mike."

"Mike; Dusk will show you to a room, and I will have a Scribe fetch you after you have had some time to rest. Your weapons will be returned to you; for now, you have the protection of the Brotherhood of Steel. You will be safe here."

Mike simply nodded, practically dumbfounded, as he numbly walked behind the Lyon's Pride soldier, oblivious to everything going on around him. As soon as he stepped into a quiet, secluded room with a single bed, he dropped the backpack he didn't remember picking up onto the floor, dropping himself onto the floor next to it, leaning against the bedside. With a shuddering sob, he let the bottled up emotions come out, doing his best not to make any noise, lest he gain unwanted attention while he tried to cope with the mind-shattering discovery that his entire life, everything he had ever known, everything he had aspired to be, was now all for naught.

* * *

A/N: Well, a bit longer than I originally expected, but still good enough for me. Let me know what you all think.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Now, just a disclaimer: this isn't going to be a really heavy, dark story. I don't do heavy and dark stories very well. There will be some elements of it, but by and large, this story will be more entertaining than anything else. That, and I like making my main characters going through awkward situations. So sue me.

* * *

Fallout: Displacement

Chapter 2

Mike heard someone knock at the door to his room. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting in there, but his throat felt raw, his eyes swollen and red from the tears that had long since stopped falling. He cleared his throat before speaking, "Come in."

A moment later the door opened up, revealing none other than Sarah Lyons, stepping into the small room, regarding him for a moment. Eventually, she asked, "You ok, kid?"

Mike, almost despite himself, laughed at the question, before glaring off at the wall to his left. "First off, I'm not a kid; not anymore. Secondly? No, I'm not ok; not even close."

Sarah simply nodded, "You mean your whole world jumping thing?" Seeing the look he gave her, she elaborated, "My father briefed the Pride on your unique situation. Normally, I would have called you crazy and thrown you out the front door on your ass. However, my father has enough experience to know a liar when he sees one, and if he's willing to believe you, even in part, then there must be at least some truth to your story. Even if it's only true insomuch that you believe it, due to some sort of brainwashing."

Mike, for his part, just let out a sigh. "So, what is the Brotherhood going to do?"

Sarah gestured for him to follow, which he did, after picking up his pack. "My father is having the Pride set out to go retrieve anyone who might still be at the site of the occurrence. With any luck, there may be a few survivors still holding out, maybe even some technology of your world for us to retrieve and study. In the meantime, the elder has asked that you be taken down to chat with the scribes, learn a bit about our world's technology."

Eyebrows raising slightly, Mike couldn't help but ask, "So he wants me to learn about your tech, and see if my alternative knowledge of technology couldn't help but discover ways to improve your tech?"

The woman smirked, shooting him an appraising look, "Yeah, something like that."

Nodding, he replied, "Sure, I guess I could do that. I could also show them some of my tech, and see if they could help me improve it. After all, the technology from my world doesn't utilize nuclear power sources, so they'll quickly use up their internal power supply before being of much use."

Sarah shot him a look of incredulity. "Your world didn't use nuclear energy? At all?"

Mike shook his head, "Not in the scale that your world did, and still does. On my Earth, people were afraid of Nuclear energy, especially after a few public incidents involving large nuclear reactors going into meltdown. The most notable example was in Ukraine, in a city called Chernobyl. Their nuclear reactor had a total meltdown, and their containment systems failed. They had to evacuate the entire city, which had a population over ten thousand. In a few days, a bustling city was turned ghost town. Even up to present day… well, present day before I ended up here… people would study and observe the remains of the city, to watch how nature would reclaim the area. However, that's a different story.

"No, in my world, gasoline and other natural fossil fuels were used to power the industrial world. Sure, there was some experimentation with solar, wind, and hydrodynamic energy, but by and large, it was fossil fuels that made the world go 'round."

Before he knew it, they were standing in a large room, filled with computer banks, and a large robot dominating the center of the room. "Well, as fascinating as this discussion has been, I need to go try and find some of your friends; I believe you've already seen who Scribe Rothchild is?" Seeing him nod, she continued, "Good; find him, and he can set you up somewhere to work."

With that, Sentinel Lyons spun around and walked out, leaving Mike to stand and stare at the large robot. With a shake of his head, he walked down the stairs of the catwalk, moving to the ground floor to search for the scribe in question. It didn't take him long to find the older scribe standing in front of a terminal at the base of the elevator, likely working on something for the gigantic robot. Stepping up to the man, Mike asked, "Scribe Rothchild? I was told to find you to get a place to work."

The scribe didn't pay him much mind at first, merely shooting him a glance. However, he did a double take once he realized who was asking for him. "Ah yes, the world jumper. Come with me; I took the liberty of clearing off a table over here for you, and have assigned Scribe Grey to work with you. She's less experienced than some of our older scribes, but given that your technology is wholly unfamiliar to us, that should prove more useful to everyone involved."

Mike raised an eyebrow as they reached the table, asking, "Why do you say that?"

Rothchild merely shrugged, "She hasn't developed any sense of biases or concrete opinions of technology, as she hasn't had very much exposure to the limitations of it. Between the two of you, I'm sure you can work around any barriers between your world's technology and ours. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With that, the older scribe left, leaving Mike to shake his head in confusion. He let out a sigh, before sitting down in one of the two chairs, and began pulling out all of the technology he normally carried with him. Within a few moments, his laptop, netbook, iPad, and iPhone were all spread out in front of him. Before he could start to working at dismantling his computers, however, someone cleared their throat behind him. Turning, he saw a young woman standing there, her arms filled with what looked like old machinery. She looked at him with wide eyes, as though she were afraid of him. "A-are you the w-world jumper?"

A smile came unbidden to his lips, as he nodded, "Yes, though you can just call me Mike, if you'd like. It would make conversation a lot less awkward."

She smiled a little, before moving to the chair next to his, dumping the pile of parts down onto the table next to his equipment. "Sorry, I'm just a little nervous to be tasked with something so important. I mean, figuring out how to combine two completely different types of technology, I just find it so fascinating." Seeing Mike smirking at her, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "First off, it's fun to watch how animated you get with your hands when you get excited. Second, should I just call you Scribe Grey? Or do you actually have a first name?"

The girl blushed profusely, looking away as she quietly answered, "My name is Ashley."

Still smiling, Mike extended his hand, "Well then, it's nice to meet you Ashley."

Looking up at him, she tentatively smiled back, and shook his hand. "Thank you."

Clapping his hands, then rubbing them together, he spoke, "So, what's say we go ahead and dig in, shall we?"

* * *

Some time later, Elder Lyons and Scribe Rothchild stood some distance away on the raised catwalk, staring down at the two younger individuals seated at the table, watching them dissect the pieces of technology. Owen Lyons turned to the scribe, "Rothchild, as your longtime friend and brother of the Steel, I have to ask; what in the name of Steel are you doing?"

The scribe merely shrugged, feigning a look of innocence. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Owen."

The elder turned, giving him a scathing look. "Reginald Rothchild, I know you far better than that. You assigned that young girl to work with him on purpose."

Exasperated, the scribe turned towards him, "Of course I did! Even if nothing comes of this endeavor to merge wholly different technologies, he represents fresh, new blood. Besides, look at him! Tall, broad, strong, obviously well fed; qualities that are extremely rare in the wasteland, if not entirely nonexistent."

Lyons just shook his head. "So even with this, it comes down to a game of breeding?"

Rothchild turned away, his shoulders sagging. "Old friend, when hasn't it been? Even recruiting locals into our ranks, many of our original members want nothing to do with them; they're usually mutated by high levels of exposure to radiation, and barely have any meat to their bones, and don't get me started on the diseases some of the locals carry. It's a problem the Brotherhood has had for the entirety of its existence, ever since the war. We _need_ to inject some new blood into our numbers, if only to preserve our future."

The elder let out a tired sigh. "Friend, I believe that, though well intentioned, your actions may cause more problems than solutions."

The scribe looked at him, his confusion evident, "What do you mean?"

Owen Lyons gave him a look out of the corner of his eye, "My own daughter mentioned the boy to me."

"Mentioned?"

The older man's aura shifted from one of a leader to that of a father. "She is… interested in him, it would seem. She did not say it outright, but I have seen and experienced enough young love to recognize the spring in one's step when having found someone of potential… _personal_ interest."

Rothchild's entire demeanor changed, similar to that of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Oh."

Lyons let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, indeed. It likely stems from the very same reasons you yourself just listed."

The two of them fell into a companionable silence for a few minutes, simply watching the two younger people work. Eventually, Rothchild spoke, "I may be mistaken, but it appears to me that that boy might actually be oblivious."

Lyons turned to his friend, "Oblivious? To what?"

Rothchild didn't turn his gaze as he answered, "To her advances. I have seen her make no less than three obvious gestures towards him, and he doesn't respond. At all. Either he is too engrossed in the technology, or he is oblivious."

The elder observed more closely, and watched the girl make yet another attempt to garner the world jumper's personal attention, only for it to not even remotely faze the young man. "Reginald, you don't think he might…"

"What? Be inclined towards the same gender? No, he may be clueless as to her advances, but that doesn't mean his eyes haven't wandered a few times."

Elder Lyons just shook his head, "I do not look forward to when my daughter returns, and finds… well, _this._"

Rothchild turned, smirking. "Fine, then. Send him up to the shooting range in a little while; see how he handles a weapon. If he is as good as or better than the initiates, then we train him to use power armor, and send him on missions with Sarah; make him an official initiate, if she questions the reason for her being the one training him."

Lyons regarded his friend for a moment, before shaking his head, "Rothchild, even having known you as long as I have, sometimes you still surprise me with your underhanded tactics."

The old scribe simply took the comment in stride, smirking as he replied, "Owens, you've always been too honest for your own good. Someone has to cover the underhandedness of politics for you. Just be grateful that that someone is me."

* * *

Mike smiled as Ashley held up the gutted pip-boy frame. "See? We can just wire in your… iPhone, was it?... directly into the chassis of the pip-boy. We won't even have to modify the device in any way; the only hardware that needs adapting is the connection between it and the pip-boy's original power supply."

He opened his mouth to reply, when he heard Elder Lyon's voice, "Michael, could you come with me? I have another task I would like you to work on for a while."

Mike nodded to the elder, before glancing back at Ashley, "Could you go ahead and wire the iPhone in for me? Just go ahead and bring it to me once it's done, if you would."

The girl beamed at him with a wide smile, "Sure! I'll get it to you before dinner."

With that, Mike gave her one last smile, before standing up and following the elder. Lyons spoke to him as they walked, "Due to our shortage of personnel, I wanted to personally see how well you can handle firearms. I am taking you up into the bailey to see how you fare."

Mike gulped nervously, before replying, "I, uh… I've never seen, much less used any energy weapons before. I can handle projectile weapons just fine, though."

Nodding, the elder continued, "That is acceptable. If your skills with a weapon are sufficient enough, we may attempt to train you with energy weapons as well."

They fell silent as they walked the rest of the way. Mike's eyes immediately sought out the source of the loud popping noises as soon as the door to the bailey opened. He had always had exceptionally quick reflexes, something that did not escape the elder's notice, as his head jerked towards the source of each gun as they fired.

They came to stop directly in front of who Mike supposed to be Gunny. This was quickly confirmed to him, as the elder addressed him, "Paladin Gunny, may I have a moment of your time?"

The man turned away from the initiates he had been berating, his scowl lessening slightly at the sight of Elder Lyons. "Of course, elder. What do you need?"

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Lyons pushed Mike forward. "I would like you to run our guest here, Michael, through the firing range; test out his skills with a gun."

The Paladin stepped closer to Mike, leaning in to examine him under close scrutiny. Even though he was taller than the Paladin by a few inches, the man still intimidated him. After what felt like eons under a microscope, Paladin Gunny leaned back. "So, kid, what experience do you have?"

"Minor experience with projectile weapons, no experience with any kind of energy weapons."

Nodding, he replied, "I figured as much. Hardly anyone gets any experience with energy weapons when we first get 'em. Well, follow me. We'll try you out on the hunting rifle first."

The Paladin led him over to one of the ranges, quickly shooing away the initiates practicing there, before pulling out a hunting rifle from some recessed niche in a support beam. Taking the gun in hand, Mike examined it, getting a feel for the weight and shape of the gun. He worked the loading mechanism a bit, looking at the cartridge and the bullets within. Finally, he stepped up to the range, bringing the gun to bear on his shoulder. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Gunny smirking.

Sighting the rifle, he noticed that the sight seemed to be angled slightly from the length of the barrel just to the left. He realized that the gun was intentionally misaligned, for him to be able to see it from staring down the barrel. Smirking to himself, he adjusted his aim to the right, almost to the edge of the round target, before letting loose three shots. Lowering the gun, his smirk turned into a wide grin as he saw three new holes almost dead center in the target.

Turning to face the stunned Paladin, he handed him the rifle. "It appears the sight is off, sir; I had to adjust my aim to the right to compensate for it."

Gunny looked down at the gun, before giving Mike a suspicious glare. "You sure you aren't an expert gunman, just trying to make me look bad?"

Mike shook his head, his amusement fading. "No, sir! I… uh, just tend to be a little… OCD at times..." Seeing the man's blank stare, he explained, "Sometimes I get a little obsessive compulsive; mostly with little things. I noticed the sight wasn't aligned perfectly with the barrel, and adjusted for it as best I could."

Paladin Gunny stared at him long and hard, making Mike extremely uncomfortable. Finally, the other man spoke, "Alright, kid; let's see how you handle other guns…"

* * *

The first thing Owen Lyons noticed when he stepped out into the bailey some time later was the total lack of gunfire. The next thing was that everyone in the bailey was grouped off to one side, behind a single figure which he quickly identified as Mike, hanging upside down from a bar, holding onto a sniper rifle, with two people holding onto him, likely bracing him against the kick from the rifle. A few moments later, the gun fired, the single shot echoing around the walls rather loudly.

As soon as the shot had been fired, one of the initiates in recon armor ran across the bailey towards the single target that had been placed at the farthest point in the entire courtyard. As soon as he reached the other side, the initiate yelled out, "He got the bull's-eye!"

A cheer rang out, and the initiates gathered around Mike pulled him off the pipe and set him down, many of them crowding around him to talk to him. As the elder moved closer to the group, Paladin Gunny stepped up next to him. "Elder, this kid's something else; I haven't seen someone shoot a gun like that since your daughter, and he claims he's just got a knack for guns."

Elder Lyons looked at the Paladin, "Do you think he's lying?"

Gunny shook his head, "Nah, he's telling the truth. His shooting may be superb, but his form is absolutely terrible. It's a wonder he hasn't thrown his shoulder out of place by now, just from shooting for the past hour."

"Can you teach him to do better?"

The Paladin actually laughed at this question, "Without a doubt. Form, I can fix, no problems. But talent? That's something you can't teach. So lucky for him, he's already got the talent. I just have to turn talent into practiced, instinctual skill."

The elder regarded the young man a moment longer, before turning to face the Paladin directly. "Can you train him to use power armor?"

Paladin Gunny spun in place, an incredulous look on his face. "You can't be serious! We don't know much of anything about him; sure, he's a great shot, but power armor training?"

Lyons held up a hand, "I didn't mean right away. There are other factors to take into consideration, not the least of which being his opinion on the matter. But if the time comes, will you train him?"

The Paladin's face took on one of confusion. "With all due respect, sir; I'd train a monkey if you ordered me to. I'd just like the courtesy of at least being told why."

Elder Lyons nodded, "When the time comes, you'll know why. That will be all, Paladin."

* * *

His first full night within the Citadel was a long, stressful night. The Brotherhood had been kind enough to allow him to stay in the same room by himself, but that only made his self-isolation worse. The more he tried to sleep, the more his mind continued to jump back to thoughts of his world; his family, his friends. Mike supposed that if there was anything he should be grateful for, it would be the fact that he didn't have a girl waiting for him to come back to.

Thinking on that, he couldn't help but reminisce on his rather bland and dismal love life, if one could call it that. Out of the dozens of girls he had ever asked out in his world, only one had ever taken him up on the offer; the relationship that followed that to be an even more abysmal failure for Mike than the Titanic. He supposed having five sisters didn't help matters. Sure, he had grown up learning all the things of 'what not to do' with girls, but a list of 'don'ts' does not equate to a list of 'dos.' He guessed that there was a good chance that there had been girls that had attempted to flirt with him, but Mike had never done subtlety well.

Rather, subtle advances with him went far enough over his head to get lost once they impacted with the moon.

Once he woke up the next morning, he realized that he hadn't seen Ashley at dinner, and thus had not gotten his iPhone back. While curious, he was hungrier than anything, and so went to the mess hall to eat before heading to his work station. However, as he walked past his work station, he saw a brunette head lying against the desk, a smattering of parts strewn about around her head. Stepping around the table, he gently shook her shoulder. "Hey, Ashley, wake up."

The girl shot up, her eyes blinking rapidly, before coming into focus, the girl realizing where she was at. "Huh, buh, wha? Oh, Mike… hey."

Mike smiled down at the girl, "Hey yourself. Did you forget to sleep in your own bed, I take it?"

Her eyes grew wide, "I got so busy working on your phone thing, and I was adding things to it, and I completely forgot! I'm sorry, I know I said I would get it to you before dinner and all, and-"

Mike held up a hand to get her to stop. "Hey, relax. I get it. Don't worry about it. Also, try to remember breathing between sentences. So, did you get it done?"

Ashley's face lit up, and she proudly held up the device, "I did! I know I said I'd only modify the power connections, but there was a bunch of unused space, so I decided to include some of the original hardware, and link it to your device through a… what did you call it? An app? I used one of those app things as a redirection system to connect to some of the pip-boy's original functions, allowing you to have the ability to utilize its more useful features, like the Geiger counter, and the health monitoring systems."

One of his eyebrows rose, "Do the pip-boy functions still work, even with the touch-screen interface?"

She nodded, "That was one of the tougher obstacles to overcome, but once I examined the coding behind the touch interface itself, it wasn't hard to copy that particular code over to the pip-boy code. All it took was a little tweaking to get the things to work right."

Picking up the device, Mike asked, "Is the iPhone built into the device, or can I still take it out if I want?"

Ashley nodded again, "I designed it so that the phone thing could be taken out, if you wanted, since we obviously don't yet have the capabilities to reproduce your technology. The biggest hurdle I had to overcome was adjusting the pip-boy to recognize the data port your phone device uses. Once I cracked that, the rest was easy."

Examining it further, he couldn't help but ask, "Is it done?"

Seeing her nod, he carefully slid the device over his left arm. He slid it until it felt snug against his skin, positioned halfway up his forearm. Once he stopped moving the device, he felt a slight tingling sensation on his skin, before the device activated. He couldn't help but smile at the small apple symbol on the screen, which quickly changed to the main screen. Looking at the bar of apps on the bottom, where the texting button had been, there was now a picture of a vault-boy head on a blue square background. Shaking his head, he pressed that button.

A moment later, the screen went black, before a green and black display appeared, showing the ever-familiar image of the vault-boy, with percentages next to each limb, showing his current health. With a smile, he reached down and gave the girl a hug. "Thank you for getting this to work. It's better than I would have ever hoped for, knowing how different the technology is."

Ashley just waved away the compliment, her face beet red. "It was no big deal."

Mike looked at the device one more time, before lowering his arm. "Well, I was headed to grab some breakfast; would you like to join me? You know, seeing as how I'm fairly sure you didn't eat dinner last night."

The girl's smile was almost wide enough to make Mike's face hurt just looking at it. "Sure!"

* * *

An hour later, Mike was much more aware of what he had gotten himself into by inviting the girl to lunch, having had to listen to her talk almost nonstop about her life, her experiences in the Brotherhood, and many other things which were less than appealing to a guy like Mike.

About the time that he began trying to think of any excuse to get away, a knight in power armor came running into the room. "Michael? The Lyon's Pride has returned, they-"

The man never got the chance to finish his statement, as Mike ran right past him, managing to clip him enough to make him stumble slightly, even in power armor. He practically flew up the staircase, having to squint once he hit the door to the outside, the light momentarily blinding him. As he blinked rapidly, and his vision returned, he realized that the group of people standing on the opposite side of the bailey was much smaller than it should have been. He hurried over to the group, as best he could through the crowd of initiates. He saw a small knot of people who were clearly from his timeline, but there were only a dozen of the original hundred or so people that had been there.

A police officer standing in the front of the group turned, and seeing him, immediately recognized him. "Hey, kid, it's you! We thought those damn lizards would have gotten you for sure."

Mike waved off the comment, "Yeah, they didn't; what happened? Where is everyone else?"

The officer's eyes fell downward. "Most of the other officers were killed by the lizard monster that didn't chase you. Then two people in black and red metal armor of some kind came and drove the thing away." Mike could feel the wave of tension that came from the Brotherhood members at this declaration, but the officer continued, "Only half of everyone survived that, and the two in the armor offered to give everyone safe harbor. A lot of people were happy enough to go along with them, but the few of us here figured that your suggestion made a lot more sense; after all, people with big guns and powerful armor don't make offers like that unless they want something from you."

Mike pressed, "So what happened next?"

"Maybe twenty people went with them, a couple dozen decided they'd try their luck on their own, and headed off with their vehicles. Those of us here decided to stick around, and see if you came back before we left. After all, it was the least we could do, considering you stuck your neck out for the rest of us."

Sarah stepped up next to the officer, "With their help, we were able to load up quite a haul of technology from the buildings. There wasn't a whole lot, but enough to definitely make the trip worth doing, aside from just a straight rescue."

The officer rounded on the Sentinel, "So what, if we hadn't had the tech, you would've left us hanging out there to get slaughtered?"

Visibly surprised for a moment, her demeanor hardened, and she jabbed a finger into his chest, "Back off, buddy. I never said that we wouldn't have gone; I simply said the technology made it more than worth doing, rather than something we did out of the kindness of our hearts. Regardless of how you feel, those are the facts. Deal with it."

The officer made as if to retort, but Mike placed a hand on his shoulder. As the officer turned to look at him, he spoke, "Give these people some slack, officer; this world isn't like ours. Kindness like you and I are used to gets people killed out here. This is a post-apocalyptic world we live in, and it brings out the worst, in both people and Mother Nature. Considering they did it on my word alone, that should be enough to at least thank them for going out for you guys."

The man closed his eyes, visibly trying to calm himself, before taking a deep breath and turning towards Sentinel Lyons. "Thank you for coming and rescuing us, miss. Now, if it would be alright, is there somewhere we can go to rest?"

Sarah nodded, before turning to the rest of her team, "Pride, split up and show these people to some rooms in the B ring."

Both she and Mike stood there as the group dispersed around them, moving off into the interior of the Citadel. He noticed that they had brought in stacks of equipment from the vehicles which were likely still parked outside the front gate. As soon as he was sure that everyone was out of earshot, he turned towards the Sentinel. "I just wanted to thank you for actually going out and rescuing those people. I know that the tech made it more of a priority, but still… thank you."

Sarah gave him a smile, waving off the thanks. "It was no big deal. We didn't even really run into any serious problems, strangely enough."

She opened her mouth to say more, when Paladin Gunny chose that moment to step up to the two of them, interrupting. "Sentinel Lyons, good to have you back. You missed one hell of a show yesterday."

Mike groaned as she raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. "What show?"

Gunny pointed to the other man, who had found a portion of the ground suddenly fascinating. "This guy here broke most of the accuracy records held by the Pride, aside from the two snipers. He even beat your record!"

Sarah turned towards him, eyes wide, "Is that so?"

The Paladin just seemed to seem even more boastful by this point. "Even better, he fired off a perfect shot with a sniper rifle from across the bailey… upside down."

Mike's head shot up as he felt an armored hand land on his shoulder, his eyes meeting the Sentinel's eyes. He could see astonishment, amusement, and a few other emotions he couldn't quite identify. "Well then, we'll just have to have him do it again, just so I can see. Who knows, maybe I'll have to issue a challenge against him; what do you think, Gunny?"

For some inexplicable reason, Michael suddenly felt like a gazelle under the watchful gaze of a cheetah.

* * *

A/N: Hell, I'm having far too much fun with this.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: here's the next chapter for your enjoyment. Hope you all like.

* * *

Fallout: Displacement

Chapter 3

Mike couldn't help but grimace as he lowered his sniper rifle, feeling the ache in his shoulder from firing the gun so much. He had somehow managed to keep almost even with Sarah's shooting scores, but the longer their "competition" went on, the longer it took him to line up each shot, and the more his eyes seemed to cross every time he looked through the scope. He gave thanks to whatever deity was watching over him that, after the first three shots upside down, they both had agreed to not do that again… after they had recovered from the blood rush that had accompanied it.

He stood up as Sarah took his place, the Sentinel lining up her shot in a few seconds, before pulling the trigger, glancing back at him with a smirk. It took all of his self control not to just let out a groan of frustration. For a fleeting moment, he almost considered throwing the next shot, just to be done so he could rest his arm. Although the pain did diminish slightly as he watched the woman move away, her having removed her power armor before competing as to not have an unfair advantage. Mike, however, would argue that her extremely form fitting recon armor was almost as much of an unfair advantage as the power armor would have been.

Now, he usually prided himself on being as much of a gentleman as humanly possible; but damn if he wasn't a mere human man, and Sarah _had_ to be shaking her hips more than she needed to, and was doing so intentionally if he had to hazard a guess. Quickly looking away before anyone could notice his wandering eyes, he stepped back up to position, prepping the rifle for yet another shot. Dully, he noticed that he could feel the sunburn forming on his pale skin, grimacing at what would likely be a painful period of adjustment.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he sighted the target as best he could, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his eyes, before taking the shot. He had to suppress the urge to let out a cry of pain as the gun bucked against his shoulder. Lowering it, he heard an initiate yell something about the shot having missed the bull's eye, and it took all he had not to cheer with the rest of them. Someone smacked his shoulder, nearly knocking him over. As he turned, he saw Sarah standing there, a wide smile on her face.

"Nice job, Michael. It's been a long time since someone gave me a run for my money in the target practice here in the bailey. Who knows, maybe with some training, you can work that kind of marksmanship out in the field?"

Mike let out a nervous laugh, "Heh, yeah… because getting shot at sounds like loads of fun…"

Sarah let out a laugh of her own, clearly amused, "We'll see. In the meantime, what's say I grab you a drink, hm? I think you deserve one after willingly accepting a challenge from one of the Pride to a shoot off. Besides, I'm sure a couple drinks would help numb that shoulder a bit."

Mike held up his hands tentatively before the Sentinel could turn around. "Actually, I… uh, I don't drink. I never have."

The woman shot him a look that he may as well have grown a second head with that declaration. "Never?"

He nodded, "Not once in my life. The way I figure, alcohol leads people to do stupid things, and if I'm going to do something stupid in my life, I'd much rather do it with a clear head, so that way I can fully appreciate it when I kick my own ass for doing something stupid."

Mike quickly found himself the recipient of a number of stares from everyone within earshot who had heard him. He shuffled a little in place, snapping Sarah out of her shock. "Well, how about a Nuka Cola, then? Or do you have something against soda?"

He almost replied with a sharp remark, only to catch himself at the sight of a slight smirk the girl was trying, and failing, to hide. Smirking himself, he replied, "Nah, no problems with soda." He stopped, before holding up one finger, "Except for that Quantum stuff; the last thing I need is to have my piss glowing, thank you very much."

Sarah raised a brow, questioning, as the two of them began walking out of the bailey into the lower levels. "Wait, you've had Nuka Cola Quantum before?"

Shaking his head, Mike opened the door for Sarah as he responded, "No, but I know that supposedly the radioactive isotope used to make the Quantum glow will make urine glow as well. Anything that makes liquid glow can't be healthy, regardless of what anyone says otherwise."

Before either of them knew it, they were down in the small mess hall. Sarah opened up the refrigerator in the far corner, pulling out two bottles while he picked a table to sit at. The entire room was empty, save for the two of them. As the Sentinel sat down across from him, he noticed her holding a bottle of whiskey. As she handed him the cola, she asked, "So, I must admit I'm pretty curious about your world; what made your Earth so different than ours?"

Shrugging, Mike took an experimental sip of the cola, which was surprisingly cold. Glancing at the fridge, he noticed a nuclear generator plugged into the side of it. Shaking his head, he refocused his attention. "I'm not entirely sure. Somewhere after world war two, there was a divergence in the timeline. I don't know about your world, but in my world, there was a cold war almost immediately after the second world war with communist Russia, that lasted over forty years. China never became a first world power, not to the extent of a full scale nuclear war, anyways. Beyond that, society continued to change and evolve, whereas people from this world kept the same nineteen fifties mindset."

Sarah, quite obviously interested, leaned over the table, her eyes wide. "So you don't think your world would erupt into nuclear war?"

He shrugged again, "I couldn't answer that, Sentinel. Like I said, it was only the year twenty twelve where I came from, a full six decades before when your would destroyed itself. That being said, my world was already on the path of developing artificial intelligence much faster than your world had." He gestured to the device on his arm, the iPhone nestled in its casing. "We also excelled at miniaturizing our technology, and rapidly improving it. Our technology was developing at a radical rate, branching off into ways some people couldn't even fathom. Hell, we had private companies taking over the space race from the government, with plans to even build hotels in orbit."

The woman smirked across the table from him, "Sounds fascinating. By the way, during downtime, just call me Sarah. What did you do, back in your world? Did you have a job?"

Mike shook his head, "Nah, not yet; I was in college, trying to get a degree to get a decent paying job. I had an internship in downtown D.C., working with a hotel chain." He stopped for a moment, before his gaze fell to the floor, "If I hadn't had that internship, I'd still be home in my world, instead of stuck here in this one."

Sarah's smile disappeared, the woman suddenly looking awkward for asking. "Sorry; I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

After a moment, he lifted his gaze, forcing a smile onto his face. "Don't worry about it. My turn to ask; what about your life? Anything interesting; a good battle, a funny story, maybe?"

Sarah smirked, adjusting her position on the seat to get more comfortable, before launching into a tale. "Well, there was this one time the Pride went all the way out to the Red Racer factory…"

* * *

It was a number of hours later, through and past dinner, that the two of them finished talking, swapping life stories with each other. Various members of the Pride had joined in on occasion, adding in their own perspectives on a few of the tales, before eventually filtering out of the mess hall. Once they had each realized the lateness of the hour, Sarah walked Mike back to his room, eventually coming to a stop in front of his door.

Before entering, he extended his hand to the Sentinel. "Thanks for taking some time to help me feel more at home, Sarah."

The woman shook his hand, a genuine smile on her face. "Don't mention it. If you decide you'd like to get some field experience, just talk to one of the Pride members, myself, or my father, and we'll get you the training you need. Deal?"

Smiling back, he nodded, "Deal. Goodnight, Sentinel."

He laughed to himself as she shot him a cross look, closing the door to his room before she could let loose a sharp retort. As he leaned back against the door, his smile disappeared, the enjoyment he had felt through the day fading, as he felt his depression slowly seep back into his mind. He slowly shuffled over to his bed, lowering himself onto it as he took his head into his hands.

It was something he had suffered from for as long as he could remember; the feeling of worthlessness, the self-doubt, the utter lack of will to live. Before the world jumping incident, it was never something he couldn't fight. He always felt that, so long as he persevered, he could push through the depression, and make a better life for himself. That if he could make something of his life, all the people who had told him that he would never amount to anything in life would be proven wrong, and he could stand tall and proud in front of those people, and smear his success in their faces.

Now, however, things had changed. Now he was trapped in a near dead world, one where most forms of life that still existed would be more than happy to munch on his dead carcass for a midday snack, simply because they could. Here, it wouldn't matter what he did with his life, because in the grand scheme of things, this humanity was struggling to simply stay alive, to scrape together an existence left over from the remnants of a nuclear wasteland, caused by the hands of their very ancestors.

He felt the emotions drain out of his body, as though sucked out with a syringe. All of them pulled away until he felt hollow and empty, a vast expanse of nothingness within him. Almost without thought, he found himself staring down at the pistol the police officer had given him not the morning before, lying in his hands. Without realizing it, he began to speak aloud to himself.

"What good am I here? These people have grown, lived, and many have died fighting in this harsh world. Me? I'm just a drain of resources; I don't have training, I don't have many skills."

The gun slowly rose from his lap, moving upward.

"I can't go home; my life as I know it is over, the man I was will never be again."

He didn't even flinch as the barrel pressed against the side of his skull.

"Maybe this world would be better off without me tainting it."

As his finger pressed up against the trigger, he closed his eyes, strangely calm. Before he could put pressure on the trigger, however, a small voice seemed to echo through his mind; a memory, recalling itself seemingly of its own accord. "_The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world._"

His eyes snapped open, and he lowered the gun, setting it down on the bed as he glared into the wall in front of him, and whispered, "So wake up… wake up and smell the ashes."

* * *

Knight Captain Gallows stood in the shadows, unmoving. He had been waiting in the time jumper's room for some time, wanting to question the man on his own. He had almost made the move as soon as the other man had sat down on the bed, but hesitated when he saw him pick up the gun. He listened passively as the man nearly talked himself into committing suicide, but tensed up immediately as he sensed a presence nearby.

The presence wasn't one he could see, hear, or feel; rather, it was a presence that one knows is there, simply by pure instinct. The subconscious knowledge that someone, _something_, was watching you. He felt it a moment before he heard the echo of a voice. "_The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world._"

Gallows was so preoccupied with the voice resounding through his head that he almost missed Michael's seeming reply to the voice. "…wake up and smell the ashes."

Suddenly, the other man stood up, placed the gun down on the small table next to the bed, and walked out the room, leaving the spec ops soldier to stand there, still hidden among the shadows. After a few moments, Irving Gallows stood, his eyes narrowed behind his helmet. "I know that voice…"

* * *

Mike walked through the halls of the Citadel, moving with a purpose towards the B ring section. Most of the guards ignored him, recognizing him by his clothing. As he neared Elder Lyon's quarters, one of the two guards stepped in front of him. "What do you need, time jumper?"

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "My name is Michael, if you don't mind. As for what I need, I'd like to talk to the Elder."

The Brotherhood soldier shook his head, "I'm sorry, but it is rather late, and Elder Lyons is not to be disturbed-"

Both of them turned at the sound of the door opening behind the soldier, revealing the Elder in question standing there. "What's all the fuss about?"

The soldier that had been talking to him replied, "Sir, the time jumper… I mean, Michael, was wanting to speak to you-"

Lyons interrupted him, "Well why didn't you inform me? Please, come in Michael."

Mike chose to ignore the grumbling coming from the soldier as he stepped around him, moving into the elder's quarters. As the door closed behind him, he spoke, "Elder Lyons, I've been doing some thinking; I'm not going home to my own world. I don't even know how I got here, let alone where to begin in even trying to go back. Everything about my life, including my past, is now worthless; all of it preparation for a world that no longer exists for me. The last thing I want to be is a drain on your resources, simply because of some mediocre experience with some technology. I want to enlist with your soldiers as an initiate, and work my way through your ranks."

The Elder raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure? If you would rather skip that, I can arrange for special power armor training…"

He shook his head. "No. If I don't earn my place, then any rank I would hold would mean nothing; not to anyone in the Brotherhood, and most importantly, not to myself. If I am going to join your ranks, I have to earn it. If not for the Brotherhood of Steel itself, than for me."

Nodding, Owen Lyons slowly lowered himself into a chair. "And what of your belongings? As an initiate, you would be required to sleep outside in the bailey, with no access to the interior of the Citadel, and they would be open game to any other initiate there."

Mike shrugged, "Just lock up my backpack and guns in a storage crate somewhere. I already donated most of my computers and other devices to you for study, and I can carry my iPhone on this pip-boy frame."

The Elder stared at him for a time, his eyes boring into the much younger man's eyes with a searching intensity. Mike did his best to stand tall and firm. Finally, after what felt like eons, the older man nodded. "Very well; tomorrow, you will be issued a suit of recon armor, and will begin the standard training regimen. I am confident that Paladin Gunny will be able to come up with new ways to test your… exceptional aim." Elder Lyons smirked, before continuing. "Once Paladin Gunny gives me a report that he feels you are ready to be tested, we will schedule a live exercise in the ruins with whichever squad is currently available at the time. Know this; the Gunny will not go easy on you. He will push you to your limits, and he will continue to push beyond them. He will attempt to break you, body and spirit, and he will do so with extreme prejudice."

Michael smiled, before nodding. "Good."

* * *

The thought went through his head as he strained to continue lifting himself off the ground, his muscles burning. 'What the _fuck_ was I thinking?'

True to the Elder's word, he had been woken early the next morning, been whisked away to the armory, fitted in a suit of recon armor, and kicked out on his sorry ass to the mercy of Paladin Gunny. The aforementioned Paladin had had him pumping pushups for what felt like hours by this point. He had given up counting how many pushups he had done somewhere around ninety seven. He was barely able to even lift his body off the ground, and could hear Gunny yelling at him, urging him on.

"Come on, you maggot! Use those flimsy little arms of yours! I know you've got muscle on you, start using it!" Somewhat unconsciously, Mike began imagining the various ways in which Paladin Gunny could die in any myriad of horrific 'accidents.' Just before he felt as though his arms would give out, the Paladin spoke out, "Alright, initiate. That's enough pushups for you. Time to test your endurance in running."

Pushing himself into a half kneeling position, he almost lost his balance, his arms feeling like putty. Glancing up, he caught sight of Sentinel Lyons standing on the far side of the bailey, watching him. Firming his resolve, he pushed through the pain, standing up, and meeting Paladin Gunny's eyes. For a moment, Mike swore he could see a flash of respect in his eyes, before he was yelling at him again, pushing him onward.

* * *

Mike raised a brow as he stood in front of a table filled with guns. Paladin Gunny smirked at him. "We're going to try something a bit different today, initiate. We've all already seen how well you shoot with the sights. Now, we're going to see how well you shoot from the hip… and over your shoulder… and blindfolded… and while falling from a three story building."

His gaze snapped onto the Paladin. "Uh… run that last one by me again?"

A smirk, and a pointed finger was the only response he got. Looking in the offered direction, Mike saw a group of initiates maneuvering what looked to be some sort of padded surface, which looked only marginally softer than the concrete ground beneath it. It took all he had not to start whimpering.

* * *

He fidgeted as he stood in the center of the bailey, blindfolded, holding the ten millimeter pistol in his hands as he spoke, "Uh, Paladin… are you sure this is a good idea?"

He heard Gunny's voice from somewhere to his left. "Of course I am! You rely solely on your sight to do your shooting. You need to utilize your other senses; hearing, smell, touch, all are equally important out in the field."

Grimacing, Mike replied, "Yeah, but name to me a situation in which I'm actually going to be blindfolded and still able to actually shoot a gun? And not get perforated by enemy fire in the process?"

There was a slight pause, before the Paladin barked out, "Enough questions! Ready, aim…"

* * *

As darkness descended over the Capital Wasteland, Mike practically fell onto the old, rickety mattress frame, the metal creaking and groaning at his weight. Even though the bed wasn't actually comfortable, it felt like it may as well have been made of pillows for how good it felt to his tired, abused body. As he laid there, however, he became aware of other people standing around him.

Sitting up, the group of initiates around him backed off a step, before one of the three men there spoke up. "Is it true? Did you actually come from another world?"

Letting out a sigh, he nodded, "Yeah, it's true."

A second male asked, "If that's the case, then why are you out here with us initiates? You were already welcomed to walk around the halls of the Citadel like one of them!"

Meeting the gaze of the second man, Mike replied, "Simple; I wasn't one of them. And until I complete the training, and prove myself in blood, sweat, and tears, I never will be one of them. Regardless of my origins, being smarter than somebody else doesn't earn respect. What does is proving that I'm just as good as they are, taking the training they went through to earn their titles."

One of the few female initiates stepped up next to the group. "I don't know; if you ask me, it looks like the Gunny is running you through ten times the hell he puts us through, and probably because you seem to have the attention of Sarah Lyons."

As Mike raised his head slightly, the third male who hadn't yet spoken asked in a quiet voice, "Why would that matter?"

The woman smirked, "Easy; all the older guys in the Brotherhood have watched that girl grow up from a toddler into the soldier she is today. Each one of them would run a guy straight through the gauntlet, especially one she's paying attention to."

Mike, in his extremely tired state, shook his head. "So they run her friends through the gauntlet? Must not make a whole lot of friends, then."

He heard the group start to chat animatedly, and even some laughter, but he couldn't understand them, his mind already shutting down from utter exhaustion, sleep claiming him.

* * *

The next month and a half passed by in a blur for Michael. Each day brought new exercises, and new pains from muscles he hadn't even known existed. Paladin Gunny cooked up even more strange and challenging shooting trials, some that seemed almost absurd in both theory and execution. While he finally seemed to be able to master almost all of the physical training, as well as the majority of the shooting challenges, there was one challenge that continued to elude his shooting abilities.

Mike stared up at the long chain hanging from the crane above the bailey, as well as the harness dangling from the chain. Gunny looked at him, and seeing both the look on his face, as well as where his gaze was fixed, let out a sigh, before yelling out, "All right initiates, clear the bailey; Mike's about to try the hanging twister shot!"

A chorus of cheers rang out, before the entire bailey cleared out, everyone moving to cover where they could watch. As the Paladin stepped up next to him, he spoke, "I'm going to get it, Sir; so help me, I'm going to get this damn challenge."

Paladin Gunny glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, before whispering quietly, "Mike, you really don't have to keep trying this challenge. Seriously, this was one the Pride threw together two weeks ago while they were stone drunk!"

Glancing at the older man, he smirked, "And tell me who had the idea, drunkenness aside?"

Shuffling a little, Gunny looked away as he mumbled, "Sarah did."

Nodding, Mike looked back up to the rig. "Exactly. So I'm going to finish this challenge, even if it kills me."

Shaking his head, the Paladin muttered, "I was afraid you were going to say that." Louder, he called out, "Prep the chain!"

The two of them moved to the upper level of the Citadel's wall, getting into position. As the Paladin helped Mike into the hanging contraption, he went over the parameters in his head again. He had only one swing of the long chain, from one side of the bailey to the other, to hit three targets dead center with a ten millimeter pistol; two targets on the right, and one on the left. Seeing as how he had to shoot them upside down, the two targets on the right posed no serious challenge for him, being left handed. It was the target on the left that continued to throw him off, missing it each time, sometimes only by mere inches.

It might not be as hard if he could start out holding the gun. But one of the stipulations of the challenge was to have the pistol holstered until he started swinging. This single detail was the one thing keeping him from completing the challenge, shaving off precious seconds of time he could instead be using to aim the gun and hit the third, most elusive target.

As Paladin Gunny secured the last few straps holding his legs together from the chain, they both noticed the entire bailey grow deathly quiet. Glancing around, Mike noticed the entire Lyon's Pride had come out to watch, as well as Elder Lyons himself. He gulped, his nerves fraying at the sudden importance of his audience. As he watched them, he saw Sarah look up at him, smiling once her eyes met his. He smiled back, feeling some of his nervousness fade away.

That changed, however, once he realized the majority of the Pride all had their helmets off, and each one of them were glaring daggers at him. He wasn't exactly sure what it was that made them mad, but he felt as though he were missing something. Was he damaging their egos by pursuing a shooting challenge like this? He didn't know, and frankly, hanging from a chain with a gun on his hip, about to be thrown across the courtyard, he didn't really care, either.

The sound of Gunny's voice brought his attention back to the task at hand. "Alright, kid; I hope you're ready this time, especially with the audience you've drawn today." Smirking, he continued, "Don't mess up, kid."

Mike rolled his eyes, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, dickhead."

Paladin Gunny raised an eyebrow, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, dickhead…?"

With a sigh, he rephrased the sentence, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, dickhead, _sir_."

"Better. Now, get ready… three, two, one, go!"

With a sudden lurch, Michael felt his stomach decide to stay behind as he flew through the air, his hand automatically flying to the gun at his hip. He focused on the three targets, bringing the gun to bear as quickly as he could pull it out of the holster. Just like every other time, the first two targets were right in his line of sight as he swung, and two shots went into two targets, respectively. With a curse, he realized he had spun a little too far to the opposite direction of the last target to accurately sight in on it.

'Ah, fuck it.'

Releasing the gun from his right hand, he swung his left arm around, ball-park guessing where the target actually was, before pulling the trigger in a pure shot of luck and faith. The gun bucked in his hand, and he almost lost his grip on it, but barely managed to keep it between his fingers and his palm. He braced himself mere seconds before slamming into the far wall, grateful that they had added padding along this segment of the wall for him. As he swung back the way he came, he carefully reholstered the gun, snapping the safety catch in place, just as Paladin Gunny and another initiate caught him on the upswing.

Within seconds, he was swinging his legs down, righting himself on his own two feet. He turned to the older man, asking, "Did I get it this time?"

The Paladin shrugged, "Don't know yet; let's go find out."

The two men quickly descended the stairs, and pushed through the crowd that surrounded the three targets. As Mike thought, the first two targets were clean hits, just like each time before. His worry came from the last shot, the one he had yet to actually hit. Moving up ahead of him, Gunny stepped up to the target, blocking the view from him.

"Well damn."

Mike tried to look around his bulky, armored form. "What? Did I miss it again?"

Paladin Gunny spun in place, a smirk across his features. "Check for yourself."

As the older man stepped aside, Michael stepped up to the target, his eyes roaming the entire surface for the bullet hole. He examined the entire outer perimeter, before moving to the inner rings. Confused, he turned back to the Paladin. "I don't see any holes."

His smirk turned into a fully fledged grin. "Check the middle."

Eyes widening, his gaze snapped back around, only to see that yes, he had managed to hit the bull's eye, directly in the middle.

* * *

Sarah had watched Mike attempt the trick shot that she had come up with while drunk a couple of weeks back. Looking back, it wasn't really the brightest idea, but he had taken up the challenge like some kind of ancient gladiator. Whether it was bravery or stupidity, she would likely never know. However, she had found herself fascinated watching him soar through the air, with a pistol in hand and a chain being the only thing keeping him from certain death from impact with the ground.

As Michael and Paladin Gunny walked from the upper wall down to check the targets, she turned to her father. "Do you think he actually made the shot this time?"

Elder Lyons merely shrugged, "I do not know. Regardless, I believe it is time for him to move on from initiate training within the Citadel; Paladin Gunny has told me that Michael has achieved everything else that has been thrown his way, and does not believe he has anything left to teach him that isn't better learned out on the field."

Nodding, Sarah felt a slight pang of nervousness, "So, which squad will you be attaching him to? Recent mission reports show that Charlie Squad would be more than adequate-"

Her father cut her off, "Now, now, Sarah, I know I'm getting older in years, but I'm still quite able to make these sorts of decisions myself."

Looking down towards the ground, she tried to hide her blush. "Yes, father."

After a moment, Owen Lyons smiled to himself, before continuing, "Since we have three initiates ready to participate in their final trial, I believe that initiates Reddin, Jennings, and Thompson will both be assigned to the Pride during the upcoming foray to reinforce Galaxy News Radio."

Sarah's head shot back up, her eyes wide as a smile grew on her face, but she quickly schooled her features, trying with marginal success to keep a neutral face. "Yes, father."

Her excitement was such that she missed the looks of annoyance, and in one case, outright hostility, coming from her fellow Pride members at this announcement. A sudden commotion caught everyone's attention, focusing on the center of the bailey. Seeing Michael jumping up and down, yelling, they moved forward, closer to the man. As they approached, his yelling became more clear.

"I finally made the shot! Did you see that? I hit that thing square in the middle! _Yes!_"

Elder Lyons smiled for a few moments, letting him revel in his victory, before assuming a more stern look. "Initiate Thompson? Come forth."

The man quickly calmed down, but the smile stayed in place as he came up to the group as a whole. "Yes sir?"

As initiates and the Pride all gathered around, Owen Lyons spoke, "You have accomplished in a short time what many have been unable to do over months. Because of this effort you have shown, it has been decided that you will begin your final trial towards becoming a Knight of the Brotherhood. In three days, you will join with the Lyon's Pride, alongside initiates Jennings and Reddin to help temporarily reinforce Galaxy News Radio. Until such time, you will work with Paladin Gunny on proper usage of power armor."

With that, the elder turned, and walked away, escorted and followed by the majority of the Pride, with the exception of Sarah, who stood waiting on Michael. The man in question had not yet moved, his eyes wide and unseeing, simply staring forward. She moved over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You ok, Mike?"

He noticed her, finally, giving her a seemingly forced smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little surprised, is all."

Sarah looked concerned, but didn't mention it to him. "If you say so; go get yourself some rest, ok? I'd say you deserve it."

As she walked away, and the crowd cleared, Mike simply stood there, staring at the ground. After a moment, he looked up to the sky, his eyes narrowed, as he whispered, "Right man, wrong place…"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: something kind of sad; I got back to this story because of a plot idea about ten to twenty chapters down the road. Here's to hoping I actually can get that far.

* * *

Fallout: Displacement

Chapter 4

Fitting the last piece of power armor over his forearm, Mike turned to face Paladin Gunny. He checked all of the seals, before nodding his approval. "Good Job, initiate. The tech-heads downstairs told me to inform you that they linked your special pip-boy with your armor's internal systems, so you'll be able to keep track of your armor's integrity and functionality. Now, make sure you remember the lessons I taught you about proper maintenance, and keep your movements under control; jerk in the wrong way, and you may accidentally snap your arm off at the elbow."

Nodding, he accepted the helmet from the older man. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."

The Paladin smirked, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Do a good job out there, don't fuck up, come back in one piece, and you won't have to call me sir ever again."

Mike opened his mouth to respond, when he felt a hand smack his armored shoulder. Turning, his smile widened at the sight of Sarah Lyons. "So, _initiate_, are you ready for your trial by fire?"

Feeling a bit more confident than he probably should, he cocked the bolt of his Chinese assault rifle back, nodding. "Absolutely."

The Sentinel just shook her head, shifting the laser rifle in her hands. "Pride, assemble on me." After a few moments, she spoke, "We have three initiates with us today, all vying for the position as the next Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel. Colvin, initiate Jennings will be your charge; Vargas, you have Reddin. Thompson, you're with me. Each of you three stick with us, and pay close attention to what we do, and above all else, do what we say, when we say it. Otherwise, you'll end up a midday snack for a pack of hungry super mutants. Got it?"

Jennings nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

Reddin made as though she were brushing off the order, as though she knew better. "You got it."

Mike nodded, gripping his gun tightly, his jaw firm and set. "Yes, ma'am."

Seemingly satisfied, Sarah spun in place, moving towards the front gate. "Pride, move out!"

* * *

It didn't take more than half an hour in walking before the group had to begin traversing the unstable section of the ruins. No one had spoken much, though Mike occasionally heard one of the other two initiates speaking quietly with their assigned handlers. He, however, was much more concerned with keeping track of his surroundings. Occasionally, the pip-boy on his arm would register a blip of motion, but more often than not would end up being a radroach or something equally small and inconsequential.

Mike turned as Sarah stepped up next to him. Gesturing to his arm-mounted device, she spoke, "So, you have a piece of your technology plugged into that thing?"

Nodding, he lifted his arm to better show the device, "Yeah; it was something Ashley- I mean, Scribe Grey cooked up for me. She managed to reverse-engineer the pip-boy software to work on my iPhone, and connect it using mixed technology. She, and whoever else downstairs worked with her, managed to even link it to my power armor to monitor the suit's condition."

As he spoke, he was unaware of the slight narrowing of the Sentinel's eyes at the mention of the young female scribe. "Sounds interesting. So, how well is it actually working?"

Mike shrugged, "Seems to be working well enough. Why do you ask?"

Sarah Lyons was quick to respond. "Just curious." She cleared her throat, before changing the subject. "So, what are your plans once you become a fully-fledged knight?"

He slowed his pace slightly, caught off guard by the question, before speeding up again. "Well, I hadn't really given it much thought. In my world, I would still be going to school, and preparing to look for someone to get married to, raise a family, and grow old with. At this point though, it seems a bit… I don't know, superfluous? I mean, we're in a post-apocalyptic world filled with monsters that wouldn't hesitate to eat one of us for a midday snack. It kind of paints the future in a much bleaker light. So I guess I'm just taking things one day at a time."

The Sentinel looked at him for a moment, before replying, "So you're, what; twenty two? You would have already been looking to get married in your world?"

He nodded, still scanning the ruins around them, "Yeah. Hell, some of the people I grew up with were married at eighteen, and one even had two kids before I ended up in this world. Is this world any different with when people get married?"

Sarah actually laughed slightly at this, before shaking her head. "No, not really. It just depends on each individual settlement or organization."

Someone cleared their throat behind the two, before speaking. "Sentinel, perhaps we should keep the chatter to a minimum? We are entering Super Mutant territory, after all."

The woman turned slightly, before nodding, "You're right, Vargas." She shot Mike an apologetic look, to which he merely shrugged, and the squad continued on into the ruins.

The group combed through the debris, all of them with their guns at the ready. Mike watched the other two initiates as they seemed to openly gape at the ruins, rather than focus on watching for enemies. He shook his head, before refocusing himself, watching every window, door, or wall which could hold any sort of enemy, from raiders to super mutants.

As the Pride reached an intersection, Mike's head shot to the left, hearing some rocks clatter to the ground. Bringing his assault rifle to bear, he slowly began moving towards the origin of the sound. He could hear the heavily armored footfalls behind him, signaling that the others following him. As he neared a corner, a flash of movement caught his attention. Turning, he saw a glimpse of what appeared to be purple hair. Swearing, he brought his gun up to look down the sights, yelling, "Contact!"

Shifting, Mike moved towards the nearest piece of cover, watching the place where he last saw movement. He had scarcely done so when the area erupted with the sound of gunfire. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw what appeared to be teenagers garbed in ramshackle clothing and armor. He heard Sarah yell out, "Raiders!"

Looking back, he saw a raider leaning out of cover, his purple Mohawk standing out like a flare against the endless grey of concrete that made up the ruins around them. He lined up the sights of his gun, but hesitated, realizing he was about to kill another human being. Seeing the raider pull a missile launcher up to his shoulder, however, made him push his concern to the back of his mind, his hand almost instinctively pulling the trigger of the Chinese assault rifle. The gun bucked against his body, the power armor absorbing the recoil, as a line of red mist blossomed along the raider's torso. One bullet hit the missile launcher, causing the heavy weapon to erupt in a fireball, consuming the dying raider.

Less than a moment later, something small smacked against the front of his helmet. Looking down, Mike almost lost control of his gag reflex; there, on the ground at his feet, was half of a hand, burnt and crisp, with a small trail of blood flowing out of it, the muscles twitching involuntarily at the forced separation from the original owner of the piece of flesh.

A shout brought him out of his trance, his head turning just in time to see a figure in power armor fall limply to the ground. He brought his gun to bear, his body acting of its own accord, as muscle memory acted out the training he had been put through with the Brotherhood. The gun seemed as though it were alive, firing rounds on its own. He watched through his own eyes, numb, as his rounds dropped two more raiders. Within seconds, silence fell over the area, bodies littering the ground and ruins around them.

Mike looked over the carnage, his gun hanging limply at his side. His eyes fell back down to the ground, where the severed hand was resting; thankfully, it was no longer twitching. Forcing his gag reflex down, he turned back around, looking down at the figure in power armor on the ground, another figure kneeling down next to the body.

After a moment, the voice that spoke out revealed the kneeling man to be Colvin. "It's Jennings, Sentinel; seems one of the raiders got a lucky shot off through his visor. He never stood a chance."

Sarah swore under her breath, before looking over everyone else in the group. As her eyes finally reached Mike, she noticed the listless way he stood there, seemingly staring off into the distance through his helmet. "Mike? You alright?"

His head jerked over, the glass visor seeming to focus on her, before turning back out into the ruins. "Y-yeah. I'm fine."

Her eyes narrowing, the Sentinel stepped closer to him. "Mike, you've never shot someone before, have you?" Glancing down at his hands, she noticed a slight, almost imperceptible shake. Eyes widening, she spun, "Glade, toss me a vial of Med-X; he's about to go into shock!"

The Pride sprung into action, moving around Mike, coaxing him to the ground while Sarah injected the suppressant into a port of his armor. Sarah pulled off his helmet, cursing at the seeming blank look on his face. He seemed confused, as he looked up to her, asking, "Why the drug?"

She answered as she shined a small hand-held light in his eyes. "If you went into shock in that power armor, your convulsions would cause the power armor to jerk erratically, and would likely shatter more than a few bones in the process."

Glade spoke up from next to him, kneeling next to him, "No kidding; regardless of what any of us think of you, Mike, but we've all seen someone go through that experience. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." He shuddered, "You don't forget the sounds of bones shattering inside a suit of power armor."

A number of murmured assents sounded out from a few other members of the Pride. Mike gazed at a few of them, his senses slowly returning to him as the drug took the worst of the edge off the shock. He turned back to Sarah, only to look past her at the sight of motion. A single raider was pulling himself up off the ground, hefting up an assault rifle. Without a single thought going through his mind, he reached down, his left hand grabbing a scoped .44 magnum from off of Sarah's hip, and sighted the raider. He noted the look of surprise cross the raider's face through the scope, before pulling the trigger, three times. The bullets impacted the man's upper torso, causing him to immediately slump to the ground.

No one said a word as he simply sat there, gun in hand, unmoving from his position. After a few moments of silence, an armored hand gingerly placed itself on his shoulder, a second hand gently prying the gun out of his hand. Once his hand was no longer touching the weapon, Mike shook himself out of his stupor. His brow furrowed in confusion, he looked around, asking, "What just happened?"

After a moment, someone started to laugh quietly, which quickly spread, until the entire Pride was full-out laughing. Before Mike could ask any more questions, someone put the helmet back on his head, while two others hoisted him back onto his feet. Sarah handed him his Chinese assault rifle, a smirk on her face. "Nice shot, kid. Glad to know you keep a level head, even when you're going out of your mind."

The comment brought about another round of laughter, as the group began moving forward again. Mike looked around, confused, before shaking his head, and following the group. The last thing he wanted was to be left behind. Moving up among the group, he felt someone nudge his shoulder. Turning, he saw the other initiate, Reddin, her helmet under her arm. She smirked at him, "So, first time wasting some raiders, eh? Not bad for your first time."

He shrugged, doing his best not to focus on it. "It was no big deal."

Reddin laughed, a smile gracing her rough features. "No big deal, he says." As she eyed him up, a new gleam appeared in her eye; a gleam that suddenly had Mike feeling rather uncomfortable. "Say, how about after we finish up this trial and become fully fledged knights, we go fuck?"

Mike nearly choked hearing that, his footfalls faltering enough to make him stumble. "I-I'm sorry; _what?!_"

The girl acted as though she hadn't noticed his surprise, instead glancing off to the sides of the street they were walking on. "I haven't been laid in forever; most of the other initiates were either little boys who would wet themselves, or had sticks shoved so far up their asses they couldn't bend over to tie their own shoes. You're the first guy I've seen in a long time who was a real man."

Trying his best to not openly gape at the other initiate, he cleared his throat, unaware of the glares being shot at the two of them from the Pride members who were within earshot. "I'll… uh; I think I'll pass, thanks. I'm not much for flings or one night stands."

Reddin, however, seemed undeterred. "Come on, Mike; I promise it'll be fun!"

Squaring his shoulders, he stopped, turning to face the initiate. "Reddin, I'm not interested. I'm not doing that kind of shit until I find someone to settle down with, permanently. Period."

Taking the hint, the girl shrugged. "Fine. I'll just have to see who's available once I get in the Citadel as a Knight."

As Reddin walked off, Mike had to suppress a shudder, settling instead to shake his head in disgust. He continued to follow the group, but hung back slightly, not really wanting to confront Reddin any further. However, as he walked, someone else fell back and matched his pace. It was when the person spoke that he realized it was Dusk. "So, you really mean what you said to her? About waiting for the right woman and all?"

Mike looked at her, though his face was hidden by his helmet, which he was rapidly finding annoying for communicating, hindering his facial expressions. "Yeah, of course I did. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

There was a pause for a moment, before the Knight Captain continued, "Do you have anyone particular in mind?"

"No, I can't say there is. I don't think there's ever been anyone who's ever liked me enough for me to even consider it."

Dusk turned to face him fully. "Really?"

Nodding, Mike elaborated. "Yeah; it also doesn't help that I can be pretty oblivious when it comes to this sort of thing."

"How oblivious?"

Smirking to himself, he gave an example. "Well, if it could be measured, subtle flirting goes far enough over my head that it would crash-land on the moon. That oblivious."

Dusk stared at him, before shaking her head. "Damn."

Nodding, Mike agreed. "Yeah. But, life goes on. Besides, now that I'm in a different world altogether, maybe my luck will change, you know?" The sound of Dusk snickering caught his attention, and he turned to look at her. "What's so funny?"

The woman just shook her head, walking faster to catch up with the rest of the Pride. "Nothing; nothing at all."

Mike considered catching up to her to continue asking, when the group slowed down, kneeling down at a hand signal from Sarah. He followed suite, kneeling down at the back. Looking around everyone else, he realized he was staring at the remains of an elementary building, with a playground between them and the building, and both building and playground filled to the brim with super mutants.

Before anyone could do anything, though, gunfire sounded out down another alley, a sure sign someone else was in the ruins with them, besides the super mutants. Sarah let out a sigh, before moving back. "Thompson, Glade, Dusk; you three with me. The rest of you, keep those mutants pinned down."

One of the others, likely Vargas, spoke up, "Where are you going, Sentinel?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder, walking as she replied, "If there's someone else trapped in these ruins, we'll provide assistance. Besides, if nothing else we need to know the strength of the mutants on our flank, _before_ they actually decide to flank us."

The other Knight nodded, taking up a position facing the school while the three of them turned down towards the alley. Mike felt a chill go down his spine as he realized he recognized the area they were moving through. He gripped his gun tighter, following behind the other three members of the Pride as they moved between the ruined buildings.

As they rounded a corner, Mike swore as a bullet smacked against the top of his helmet, jerking his head back and throwing him against a wall. Grumbling, he stood up, and sighted a low level super mutant pointing a hunting rifle in his direction. Flipping the switch on his Chinese assault rifle, he began spraying rounds at the mutant, opting for quantity instead of quality with his firing. The mutant let out a roar, and began running towards him. Backpedalling, he sighted his rifle on the mutant's head, and began firing at his head rapidly, trying to take the mutant down before it could get a hold of him.

His adrenaline spiked as the mutant came near, and he held onto the trigger of his gun for dear life. Just as the super mutant reared one arm back to club him, one of the sprays of bullets managed to hit the mutant in the eye, piercing straight through the monstrosity's brain. Unfortunately, the bullet didn't stop the massive beast's momentum, all of the mutant's weight falling directly atop of Mike, forcing him onto the ground. His gun and arms pinned to his chest by the dead weight, he tried to turn his head, somewhat unsuccessfully.

By the time he managed to calm his heartbeat down slightly, he realized the gunfire had stopped, which meant the others had dealt with the rest of the super mutants. He heard a set of armored footprints jog over to him, the voice identifying it as Sarah. "Mike, you ok? Hey! Answer me!"

Mike opened his mouth to answer, when the stench of the super mutant's blood reached his nose, causing him to gag, almost losing control of his stomach. "G-guh, get this thing off of me!"

He waited a moment, expecting the weight to lift off of him, when the sound of laughter caught his attention, making him roll his eyes. As he lay there, more and more of the Pride came over, laughing at his misfortune. He heard one of the men ask, "Hey Mike, didn't Paladin Gunny drill into your head not to sleep on the job?" Another round of laughter met his ears, causing him to let out a groan of annoyance and frustration.

"Can you please get this off of me? I think I may hurl inside my helmet smelling the damn thing's blood!"

Thankfully, the super mutant carcass was lifted off of him a few moments later, unceremoniously dumped onto the ground a few feet away. A hand extended down, helping him off of the ground. As he stood up, Mike found himself face to face with Dusk. He could hear the mirth in her voice, even through her helmet, "Not bad, kid. Most initiates nearly wet themselves the first time they have a full frontal encounter with a mutie, assuming they don't freeze up completely and get their head taken off."

Mike stared at the woman. "Uh, thanks… I think?"

The knight just laughed, patting him on the shoulder before turning towards the Sentinel, who was talking to someone else a few feet away. Shuffling to one side, Mike got a good look at the girl in front of Sarah; a vault suit, the number 101 emblazoned on the front, was what caught his attention. Looking her up and down, he could see the suit was armored, and the girl was wearing a vault security helmet, with a handkerchief covering her mouth and nose, hiding most of her features. That was all he was able to make out before Sarah turned around, addressing the group.

"We're heading out, Pride. I'll take point; Thompson, you bring up the rear. Vaultie, you can follow us if you'd like, but keep your head down."

The woman simply nodded, not saying anything. Mike narrowed his eyes behind his helmet, staring at the vault dweller. She met his gaze, and for a moment, it was as though they could read each other's minds. The moment didn't last, and Mike quickly spun and followed behind Sarah and the others, expecting the other woman to follow.

* * *

Sarah glanced to her right as Dusk caught up with her. The other woman wasted no time in speaking her mind. "You know, for a while none of us in the Pride really liked that kid; didn't think he'd cut it out here. Seeing him hold his own, I'm cautiously optimistic."

Rolling her eyes, the Sentinel replied, "Thank you so much for that wonderful vote of confidence in him. I'm sure he'd love to know that."

Dusk laughed, her amusement evident. "Come on, Sarah; we all know you've got a crush on him."

She shot the other woman a glare, "Don't even go there. You know I don't tolerate joking about that, ever since-"

Dusk held up her hands, "Whoa, relax. I didn't mean anything by it, Sentinel. All I was going to do was give you some advice."

Eyes narrowed, still suspicious, she asked, "Alright, I'll bite. What advice?"

Dusk's good humor quickly reappeared. "As according to the man himself, he couldn't read subtle flirting if you held up a sign. So my advice: don't be subtle."

Chuckling to herself, Knight Dusk walked on, leaving Sarah to muse on the other woman's words.

* * *

Mike let out a sigh of relief as they made it to the opposite side of the elementary building, his armor dinged and scratched in numerous places from bullet impacts, all of them thankfully low enough caliber to simply bounce off.

Glancing out at the courtyard to GNR, his relief turned into a grimace, seeing a number of super mutants scattered around, firing at the entrenched brotherhood soldiers. Gripping the barrel of his assault rifle, he quickly lined up his sights.

Before he could fire, he felt someone tap on his armor. Glancing over, he saw the vault dweller looking at him. Without speaking, she pointed at what appeared to be a hidden explosive of some kind. Nodding in thanks, he quickly readjusted his aim, and firing.

The results were both immediate and spectacular. A cascade of fire and explosions rippled through the ranks of the mutants, blowing more than a few of them to pieces. With a smirk, he turned to thank the vault girl, but she was already gone, halfway out into the courtyard. He quickly followed, his gun spitting rounds at the mutants.

In a matter of a few minutes, the Pride had the courtyard cleared, brotherhood soldiers moving among the corpses, looting their weapons and ammo. Mike watched as Reddin began to move to the far side of the courtyard. Remembering the behemoth from the game, he called out, "Hey Reddin, I think I saw one of these corpses twitching. You want the kill?"

The initiate, eager for whatever bonus points she could get, smirked as she walked over. "Absolutely. Thanks for sharing."

He just shrugged. "No problem. I've gotten more than enough kills today."

As he stood there, he turned and looked at the bus, waiting. Sure enough, moments later, a loud, thundering crashing noise echoed across the courtyard. Not waiting to have his suspicions confirmed, he began to slowly walk towards a downed brotherhood soldier's corpse. Next to said corpse was a Fatman mini nuke launcher, a mini nuke already loaded and primed to fire.

As soon as the bus exploded, Mike broke into a sprint, dropping his assault rifle on the ground as he reached for the nuke launcher. Just as his fingers wrapped around one of the side rails of the launcher, blinding pain shot through his leg, dropping him to the ground with a cry.

Looking down, his stomach dropped at the sight of a piece of rebar pinning his leg to the ground, a line of crimson liquid slowly dribbling down the metal. Grinding his teeth together, he shouldered the nuke launcher, trying his best to hold it steady as the super mutant behemoth wreaked havoc amongst the soldiers in the courtyard.

He watched, trying to see when the other soldiers were clear, but wasn't sure enough to take the shot. However, it was only a few moments before the behemoth spotted him pinned to the ground, and with a roar, began running at him. Panic flooding his system, Mike pulled the trigger, the mini nuke soaring through the air, impacting the behemoth somewhere on the shoulder. The following blast made the world disappear for Michael; all noise ceased, his vision filled with a bright white light. The shockwave came a few moments later.

He kept his eyes shut, willing the ringing in his ears to stop long enough for him to be sure he was still alive. That confirmation came moments later when someone ripped the helmet off of his head, his eyes involuntarily opening. He saw Sarah leaning over him, and though it looked like she was shouting at him, he couldn't hear anything she was saying.

He held a hand up and tapped his ear, shaking his head. Appearing frustrated, she leaned her head down, pressing her cheek against his. He could feel the vibrations of her voice against his skin, allowing him to kind of understand. "Hold still... Stay calm... Be ok..."

As she pulled away, her face questioning, he nodded, attempting to smile. It came as more of a grimace as pain lanced up his leg, the rebar making itself known to him again. Looking down, he saw two armored figures by his legs, one holding the limb, the other holding the piece of steel. Dropping his head back, he let out a whimper, before nodding to Sarah. She gently opened his mouth, putting a piece of wood in it, before turning and nodding to the others.

Mike's world immediately became wrapped entirely in pain, originating from his leg and moving up his spine. His jaw involuntarily clenched, as a raw, painful scream tore at his throat, echoing across the walls of the ruins. As the pain slowly subsided, the last thing Mike remembered was a pair of blue eyes staring down at him, gold hair reflecting in the pale sunlight.

* * *

A/N: On a side note, I stuck Jennings with Colvin before I read the wiki, which states that Jenning's body is found near Colvin in the game. Yay for coincidences!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Ok, so here's my next chapter in Fallout. Not sure why my muse keeps jumping back and forth between Fallout and Mass Effect, but there you go. Take it as you will.

* * *

Fallout: Displacement

Chapter 5

Consciousness was slow to return to Mike. The first thing he noticed was that his leg no longer felt like it had a wire brush running through it over and over again, but still throbbed and ached. The second thing he noticed was he no longer seemed to be wearing his power armor. His eyes creaking open, he managed to see that the room he was in was rather dark, but had enough illumination for him to notice the ceiling had a myriad of cracks, holes, and other defects along its surface.

He tried to lean up into a sitting position, but let out a groan as he felt his leg flare up in pain, lowering himself back onto the mattress he was lying on. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up as Sarah Lyons leaned over from where she was sitting. From the look on her face, it seemed she hadn't slept in some time. She smiled as she looked down at him. "Hey, there; you shouldn't move, Mike. Your leg needs a little more time to heal and knit itself together. Stimpaks are miracle workers, but they don't work instantly."

Mike nodded, his head dropping back against a rather hard pillow. "So, we obviously won against the super mutants, as I'm not dead. How did we fare with casualties?"

Sarah's smile disappeared as she looked away. "All in all we did better than usual, but we still lost three soldiers stationed here at GNR. We also lost Redden."

Mike's head shot up, an incredulous look on his face. "What? How?!"

The Sentinel got a curious look on her face as she replied, "The behemoth hit her with a fire hydrant club. It shattered her spine, killing her almost instantly." Swearing, he dropped his head onto the bed, closing his eyes in frustration. Sarah asked, "Why do you ask? You didn't seem particularly enamored with her when you were talking with her, from what I hear."

Letting out a sigh, he replied, "Because I tried saving her. She was supposed to die when that bus exploded. That was why I called her over about a super mutant kill. I tried changing things, and yet she died anyways."

Sarah's eyes grew wide. "That's why you were running for that fat man launcher so quickly! You knew what was coming."

Mike nodded, "Yeah, I knew; and fuck-all good it did me in trying to save Redden's life, apparently."

Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder, "At least you tried. Even if she still died, you did the right thing trying to save her life. Though I have to ask, how did you know she specifically was supposed to die?"

Looking up at the Sentinel, he answered, "Remember the world I came from, how this world was supposed to be a story, a game?" She nodded, so he continued, "The main character the game followed was that girl, the vault dweller. She's important to everything that happens over the next few months in the Capital Wasteland."

Lyons swore, before replying, "That would have been nice to know sooner; she already left for the Mall, off on an errand for Three Dog."

Mike shrugged, "She'll be fine. She might get banged up a bit, but she'll get through it and get back here, satellite dish in hand." Letting out a yawn, Mike closed his eyes for a moment. "Even being unconscious for a while, I still feel like I could just pass out for the next twenty hours."

Sarah just leaned back in her seat, smirking, "That's just the remaining sedatives from the Stimpaks."

He nodded, not opening his eyes at first. As a thought occurred to him, he looked up at her, "Did I pass my training?"

The woman's smirk turned into a full smile. She nodded down at him, "I got off the radio with my father; after taking everything into consideration, he has given his assent; you are now officially a knight of the Brotherhood of Steel."

Mike smiled as he rested his head down again for the umpteenth time. "Great; good to know I didn't just get my leg impaled by rebar for nothing."

Sarah laughed, causing him to smile wider, trying not to be obvious in watching her good humor at his terrible joke. After a few moments, she calmed down, her smile shrinking slightly. He was almost about to ask what was wrong when she took in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and asked, "So, I was wondering… when we get back to the Citadel, did you want to grab dinner or something?"

Mike's brow furrowed in confusion. "Well sure; now that I'm a knight, won't we likely eat a lot of meals together with everyone else?"

Sarah rolled her eyes, before elaborating, "I meant have dinner together? Just the two of us? Like, say… a date?"

For more than a few moments, Sarah thought she might have broken his brain; Mike simply stared at her, a blank look across his face. It was clear the gears were turning in his head, as he tried to process this new information. As he realized what she was saying, his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. "A-a-a-a d-date?!"

A smile grew across Sarah's face as she nodded. "Yeah; I'm assuming you would go on dates in your world?"

He looked away as his face grew beet red. "W-well, I used to have one girlfriend, but she used me for what she could get from me. Beyond that, no girl ever wanted anything to do with me." He looked up at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're really being serious?"

She nodded, "I wouldn't say anything if I didn't mean it." She patted his shoulder, standing up from her seat. "You rest up, and get to feeling better. Sleep on it, if you're not sure about it. The offer stands."

Mike just nodded back, dumbly, as the Sentinel walked away, smiling wide at his reaction. Mike stared after her, before looking up at the ceiling, completely shocked. Finally, he managed to speak, "The hell just happened?!"

Another voice spoke up from the corner, causing him to jump in surprise. "The Sentinel just took a chance with you. Don't fuck up." Looking up, he saw Dusk walking out from behind a partially collapsed wall, a shit-eating grin on her face. "I've known her for as long as I can remember, kid; only twice she's opened herself up enough to trust someone with her heart. She got burned once, and I'd hate to have to brutally murder you if you ended up hurting her."

Dusk punctuated her statement by pulling out her wickedly long combat knife, running the edge along the forearm of her power armor. The grinding noise of metal on metal causing Mike's spine to curl. He slowly nodded, his eyes glued on the rather intimidating blade. "Y-yeah, I-I-I think I get the p-point…"

The Knight Captain nodded as she sheathed the knife in its holster, her smile never fading. "Good to hear. So long as you treat her right, I think things will work out just fine for you two. After all, you seem to be a fine young man; honorable, trustworthy, _wouldn't cheat on her or lead her on…_ and Sarah is a sweet gal, once you get past her rough, take no prisoners, kickass side, anyways. I'm sure the two of you will hit it off in no time at all."

After a moment, Mike narrowed his eyes. "Ok, I get it. You already got the intimidation down, ma'am. Now you're just trying to lay it on a bit thick."

Dusk let out a dramatic sigh, her large smile fading to a simple smirk. "Yeah, I probably overdid it a little. The point still stands, Michael. Don't hurt her. She may be tough, but she has a softer side too, just like the rest of us. Only twice in her life has she ever let anyone really see it; one of those times was a few moments ago." She glanced towards the door, her voice lowering slightly. "And while I may threaten to hurt you, every single man in the Pride, if not in the entire Brotherhood, would skin you alive and slowly torture you to death if you broke her heart. They all care about her, in one way or another; and I can guarantee you they will all be watching you very closely for the next little while. _Especially_ her father."

Mike found himself staring at the ceiling as he asked, "…I am so totally fucked."

Dusk's laughter was his only response.

* * *

The next day found Mike walking up the stairs into the broadcasting station of Galaxy News Radio, with Sarah at his side. He had managed to fit his power armor back on, even over the now thin layer of bandages over his rapidly healing leg. He walked slowly, taking each step one at a time, as to not aggravate his wounded leg. Glancing up, he saw Three Dog, the DJ himself standing at the top, waiting for him, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

"So, you are one of the mysterious _travellers_, gracing me with your omnipotent presence, to bask in your divine light?"

Raising an eyebrow, Mike couldn't help but grin, "But of course; bow before me, and I shall bestow the knowledge of the divines and the heavens upon you!"

Three Dog laughed, slapping his knee with one hand. "Haha! Whew, Sentinel Lyons, you sure do know how to pick 'em. So, I take it she's told you all about me?"

Mike shook his head as he made it to the top of the stairs. "Actually, I already know quite a bit about you. It's a long story, but the short version is in my world, this world existed as a story in a videogame. One that I happened to really like. So I know who you are, I know about the good fight, and all of that stuff."

Three Dog let out a short whistle, seemingly reappraising him. "Well then, it would seem that you have me at quite the disadvantage, my friend. Would you care to come with me, tell me a bit about your story?"

Mike shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as he replied. "I can't. Not now, anyways. I just wanted to come and thank you for everything you do for the Capital Wasteland. Some other time, I'd love to swap stories with you. Maybe even some music, though I'm not sure how your listeners would take to hearing music from my world."

Three Dog let out a sigh, before extending his hand. "I'll hold you to that. I'd love to hear more about your world."

Mike returned the handshake, and began turning, before looking back at the other man. "Say, the vault girl hasn't come back yet, right?"

The DJ shook his head. "No, not yet. I figure it may take her another day, maybe two, before she gets back here."

Nodding, Mike seemed to think for a moment, before a smile came to his face. He looked at the DJ, asking, "When you send her towards Rivet City, I'd like you to tell her I left a message for her. 'Do not trust the man bearing gifts of shiny trinkets, for his price is the life of a guardian and a warrior.' Got that?"

Three Dog nodded, "Yeah, I got that. Don't understand any of it, but I got it. I'll be sure to pass the message along. Care to explain?"

Mike's smile grew. "That will have to be a story for another time."

With that, he and Sarah walked back down the stairs, leaving the disc jockey to stand there in absolute befuddlement. As soon as they stepped out of earshot, Sarah began laughing, giving Michael a strange look. "What was all that about?!"

Chuckling himself, he replied, "I already know what's supposed to happen to that vault dweller, right?" Sarah nodded, so he continued, "Well, I had the idea that I could help her along a little, but I didn't want to make things too obvious, and I've been trying to think of a way to give her hints without being too specific. Well, when I was talking to Three Dog, it hit me; I'll drop her hints in riddles. That way, it should be clear enough once she's in the situation that she can deal with it, but not far enough in advance to alter the timeline."

Sarah shook her head, still laughing. "But wouldn't it still change the timeline?"

Mike quickly responded, "No, that's the beauty of it; it doesn't change the timeline. It merely guides it along one of the already determined paths. It should help her see the possible consequences of her decisions."

Still shaking her head, Sarah spoke, "You are an absolute nut case."

He sobered up, looking up at the ceiling in mock seriousness, before giving the Sentinel as serious a look as he could, and answering. "Absolutely. How did you discover my secret?"

He held the straight face for a few moments, before cracking a grin, causing Sarah to let loose another fitful burst of laughter, leaning on him to keep from falling onto the floor form losing her balance. It took her a few minutes to regain control of herself, and as she stood back up, she told him, "Mike, that was a terrible joke!"

Michael nodded, a light smile in place, "Of course it was. But it still made you smile and laugh, didn't it?"

The Sentinel seemed to regard him in a new light. "Yeah, I guess it did."

He began walking, forcing her to continue to walk with him, to help ensure he didn't hurt himself in his power armor by tripping or collapsing from his hurt leg. "Then it wasn't such a bad joke after all, was it?"

"No, I guess it wasn't."

* * *

It took the Pride a solid half a day to make it back to the Citadel, due to Mike's limp. Thankfully, the trip was uneventful, the bodies of the dead from their initial trip there still rotting in the scorching sunlight. During the day and a half Mike spent around the Pride, he had noticed Knight Captain Dusk going around, talking with other members of the Pride. As a result of this, he quickly noticed that almost all of them seeming to lighten up around him, being more friendly to him then they had initially been. One, however, seemed to turn more hostile towards him, actively avoiding him. Paladin Vargas seemed to despise him for his new relationship with the Sentinel. Mike tried not to focus on that, instead simply allowing the other man to keep whatever distance he desired away from him.

He didn't mention it to Sarah, however, as the last thing he wanted was to risk her pushing him away from her in order to keep Vargas close as a friend. He didn't want to lose his chance at a relationship with someone like Sarah, simply because the Paladin didn't like him.

Such was the condition of the entire group as they finally stepped back within the gates of the Citadel, Elder Lyons standing there, waiting for them in the courtyard. As the Elder's gaze passed over the Pride, and landed onto his daughter, he immediately noticed her happier demeanor. There was barely a moment's pause of consideration before Owen Lyons fixed his gaze directly on Michael. Suddenly, he found himself intimidated by her father, much more than he ever had been before, being subjected to the 'father's stare.' It took all of Mike's willpower not to shrink under that gaze.

Sarah almost immediately moved to her father, saluting him. "Sentinel Lyons, reporting in."

The Elder nodded, finally taking his eyes off of Michael. "It is good to see you back, though the loss of two of our initiates is a saddening blow. However, we cannot dwell on what we have lost. We can only move forward, and be thankful for that which we did not lose, and for that which we have gained. Initiate Thompson, step forward."

Doing his best to hide his trepidation, he walked up until he was standing directly next to Sarah, and barely managed to keep from looking over at her. Elder Lyons shifted to look directly at him, eyes locking. "Yes, sir?"

The Elder's gaze softened slightly, as he spoke, "After deliberating with Sentinel Lyons, as well as other members of the Pride, I am happy to announce that you have passed your test. From this point forward, you shall be known as Knight Thompson." The older man extended his hand, which Mike happily took in a handshake. "Congratulations, son. After you get your armor cleaned up, meet up with Scribe Jameson; she will issue you your new holotags."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Owen Lyons let out a quiet chuckle, and spoke in a much quieter voice, "Also, you don't have to call me sir so many times. Using my title would suffice."

Mike replied, "Yes, si- I mean, Elder."

Lyons smiled, before asking, "One more thing; I would like you to come to my quarters; say, in about an hour? I want to have a word with you."

The older man didn't wait for his answer, instead pulling away, and turning, walking out into the Citadel courtyard. Michael watched him go, his gut sinking as he imagined all the ways an old man could brutally murder him, and with what weapons. Sarah nudged him slightly, drawing him out of his stupor. "Hey, are you ok?"

Mike forced a smile. "Yeah, sure; I'm great. Aside from the fact that your dad wants to talk to me. Alone."

Sarah smiled widely at this. "Relax. I'm sure there's nothing you need to worry about."

He just nodded. "Uh huh. Sure."

The Sentinel stepped in front of him, forcing him to focus on her. "Well, just make sure you don't take too long. I'd hate to have to eat dinner all by myself."

With that, she turned and walked away, her hips swaying as she walked. Even though the power armor wasn't exactly flattering towards one's physique, Mike found his eyes wandering downwards. He didn't stare, however, knowing that he wasn't exactly in a conspicuous place for something like that. Shaking his head, he moved towards the B ring, hoping to high hell he ended the day with his head between his shoulders, and a smile on his face from what he wanted to be a good first date with the daughter of the leader of an army.

* * *

As Mike slowly walked through the hallway of the B ring some time later, he found himself standing in front of Elder Lyon's quarters, two guards standing on either side of the door. He readjusted the collar of his power armor, which he had spent the previous hour polishing, cleaning, and otherwise working on. He wanted to make as good an impression on the Elder as humanly possible. He could hear a radio playing in another room, the music echoing through the halls. He smiled as he realized the song playing was 'I don't want to set the world on fire,' one of his favorites from the GNR feed.

Mustering up his courage, Michael walked up to the door to the Elder's room, and knocked on the door. "Elder Lyons? It's Knight Thompson."

The door opened a few moments later, the older man smiling as he saw him. "Ah, yes. Come in." He walked in, moving to the opposite side of the room as the door was closed behind him. The Elder gestured towards the couch, "Have a seat, Michael."

He did so, hesitating a moment, before asking, "You wanted to talk to me, Elder?"

Owens nodded as he lowered himself onto the couch opposite from him. "Yes, I do." He paused, before gesturing to Mike's leg. "I heard that you were injured during the fighting outside Galaxy News Radio. How is your leg doing?"

Grateful for the ice breaker in the conversation, he nodded, "It's pretty good. Still a little sore, but I can walk, and there isn't a hole in my thigh anymore. Something that I would have had to deal with for much longer back in my world. But that's neither here nor there."

The Elder nodded, thinking for a few moments, before continuing, "So, do you have any plans now that you are a Knight in the Brotherhood?"

Shifting slightly, Mike decided to just be totally honest. "Well, your daughter and I were planning on having dinner together tonight."

The Elder seemed to perk up at this, a twinkle appearing in his eye. "Is that so? Might I ask how this development came about?"

Doing his best not to fidget, he answered, "After I was hurt, Sarah visited me while I was healing, and asked me on a date. I… well, I was floored, really. I mean, I like Sarah, and I think she's pretty, beautiful even, but I doubt I ever would have figured she liked me, and I was too afraid she'd skin my hide if I ever asked her out."

Owen Lyons let out a hearty laugh. "She does have a bit of an indomitable spirit, doesn't she? She gets some of that from her mother." As his laughter subsided, he spoke, "Do you care for my daughter?"

Michael nodded. "Yes, I do. She's smart, funny, sharp as a tack, strong, determined… beautiful… If I may be so bold, Elder; you have an amazing daughter."

Elder Lyons smiled, before slowly standing up. "Thank you. I've heard what I wanted to hear from you." He glanced towards the door, before his smile grew slightly. "I would normally feel it necessary to warn you about hurting my daughter; however, I believe I have already heard a number of Knights giving you that advice today, numerous times in the halls."

Mike let out a sigh as his shoulders sagged slightly. "Honestly, I think there'd be a line of people ready to kick my ass if I hurt Sarah, with her standing in the front of said line. I'm more worried about screwing up."

The Elder patted his shoulder in sympathy. "I wouldn't worry too much about that, my boy." As he led Michael across the room, he spoke in a quieter voice. "We all have that fear at your age. Even I did, when I first began courting Sarah's mother. However, you will find that if a woman likes you, she is willing to overlook a great deal. If they didn't, humanity never would have survived to breed, as no woman would have ever been able to stand any man."

The two of them shared a laugh, before Mike turned to face the Elder. "So… I take it I have your blessing to pursue a relationship with your daughter?"

The older man nodded, "Yes, Michael, you have my blessing. Now, go on; I would hate to hear from my daughter that you were late for your first dinner together."

Mike couldn't help but smile at the statement. "Yes, Elder. Thank you!"

With that, he practically took off down the hall towards the barracks. Elder Lyons just chuckled and shook his head as he closed the door to his room.

As soon as Mike entered the barracks, he moved towards his assigned bed, stripping the power armor off and placing the pieces into his footlocker, until he was down to his recon armor. Pulling the hood off of his head, he ruffled his hair a bit to straighten it out to some fashion, before closing the footlocker and heading out towards one of the food storage rooms. Paladin Kodiak had mentioned in passing earlier on that he had seen a pair of Brahmin steaks in one of the refrigerators in the A ring food storage room, and not so subtly hinted that Sentinel Lyons happened to like Brahmin meat, before winking and continuing on his way.

It took him only a few minutes of searching to find the steaks in question. Seeing them, he first smelled the meat, trying to determine if it was spoiled. Satisfied, he took them and headed outside into the bailey, towards a small overlook built halfway up the wall. He had seen other Brotherhood Knights occasionally cook food up there whenever they found something fresh. Mike was particularly pleased to discover that not only was there no one there that evening, but the grill was prepped and ready to be used.

Glancing off to one side, he also noticed a small table there, with two chairs, and two full sets of dishware, including two bottles of purified water. Narrowing his eyes, he looked around the courtyard, only to spot Knight Captain Dusk staring at him, a shit eating grin splitting her face, with half a dozen people with her, ones he recognized as other travellers from his world, smiling just as wide as Dusk. She gave him two thumbs up as soon as he saw her. Rolling his eyes, he set to work lighting the grill, and cooking the steaks once it was hot enough.

It didn't take long before he noticed that the bailey had suddenly and completely become deathly quiet. Glancing down, he realized that there wasn't a soul in sight; not even the initiates were out in the bailey. With a quiet sigh, he turned back to the steaks.

Barely a moment later, a voice cut through the silence, making him jump a little. "Looking for someone?"

Spinning around, a smile crossed his face as he found himself face to face with Sarah, donned in her recon armor like him. "There's a pretty good possibility, yeah. I was supposed to meet someone up here for dinner? Wasn't sure when she was going to show, though."

Sarah smirked as she casually walked over to him. "Oh? What were you going to do if this _someone_ didn't show, hm?"

Mike shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd have had to go find someone else to share a meal with. After all, I couldn't let a perfectly good Brahmin steak go to waste."

The Sentinel's eyes lit up. "You made Brahmin steaks? Those are my favorite!" There was a slight pause, before a suspicious look crossed her face. "How did you know to make steaks? And where the hell did you get fresh Brahmin steaks?"

Mike shrugged helplessly. "I had help, and not necessarily by choice. I'm assuming the ones responsible for tonight's menu are also responsible for the empty bailey and quiet evening."

She just shook her head and let out a sigh. "I swear, I love all of my brothers and sisters of steel, but some days I just want to strangle some of them for how much they interfere. I don't care how well intentioned they are."

Sensing the woman's shifting mood, Michael tried to help lighten it up. "So… does that mean you're not going to eat your steak? I mean, if I had to, I'd make the sacrifice and suffer through eating two of them…"

Sarah shot him a stink eye. "You wouldn't dare."

Raising his hands in mock helplessness, he replied, "Well, if you aren't going to eat it…"

She smirked as she poked a finger into his chest. "You wish. I may grumble about those guys being nosy, but I'll be damned before I turn down a fresh Brahmin steak. I just hope you didn't burn it."

Mike scoffed in false offense, pulling the two steaks off the grill. "Me? Burn a steak? Perish the thought. I'll have you know that I've always been quite proficient in cooking with a grill." He paused a moment, before looking down at the steaks. "Granted, the beef I'm used to grilling wasn't irradiated, nor did it come from a cow with two heads."

Sarah was quick to reassure him. "I'm sure they taste fine. They smell great."

They sat, and Mike watched carefully as Sarah took the first bite. The look of bliss that crossed her face told him everything he needed to know. As soon as she finished the first bite, he asked, "I take it you approve?"

As soon as she swallowed, she replied in an almost breathless tone, "That's it. You're officially my new steak cook. I usually ask Kodiak or Glade to cook one for me when we get fresh Brahmin meat in, but you got this absolutely perfect!"

Mike shrugged, "Eh, it's nothing. I used to grill a lot with my dad." He got a faraway look to his eye, staring off into space. "We'd just hang out by the grill, enjoying the nice weather in the summers, and grill. Heh, we'd grill just about any meat that could be grilled; steak, pork chops, chicken breasts, burgers…"

Sarah looked up, and seeing how he seemed to be getting a bit down thinking about the past, asked, "So, how's it feel to be a full fledged Knight?"

Mike met her gaze, and put on a half smile. "It's pretty cool, actually. Certainly not something I ever expected to add to my résumé." Glancing down towards the bailey, he asked, "I guess that means I'll get attached to a squad of my own, now? Get sent out on assignments?"

The Sentinel nodded, "That's what will likely happen, yes. Why?"

Still staring down into the Citadel's courtyard, he voiced his thoughts aloud. "I had wondered what it might take to earn a place in the Pride." Looking up, he questioned, "Or would that be a problem, with us pursuing a relationship?"

Sarah shook her head. "I don't think it would be a good idea for you to be in the Pride." Seeing the look on his face, she quickly raised her hands, "Not because you're not good enough! That's not what I mean. It's just… with us being in a relationship, it could be a huge distraction on the battlefield. That aside, we already have two snipers in the Pride. Any more would just be too many."

She almost expected Mike to be upset by that, but instead his face took on a thoughtful look. "I hadn't thought of that. Yeah, you probably don't need that many snipers in the Pride. Oh well. Do you have any idea what squad I might get attached to?"

Sarah pushed a piece of steak across her plate as the considered the question. "Hmmm… you could get attached to a supply squad for a while, so you get used to working in a team with others. Then it's possible you might be sent out with one other person to act as a spotter, and go on sniping missions. Snipers do usually work in pairs, after all. After that is anyone's guess. That'll depend on you by that point."

Mike nodded as he polished off the last of his steak, washing it down with a bottle of purified water. "Sounds cool." As he leaned back, he glanced around the bailey, before quirking an eyebrow at the Sentinel. "So, was there anything else you wanted to do, aside from eat?"

Sarah shrugged. "I didn't really have any other ideas. Did you?"

Michael glanced around again, before his eyes settled on the horizon. "You know, I haven't watched the sunset in what feels like ages." Looking over at her, he asked, "What do you think?"

The Sentinel looked positively baffled. "Watch the sunset?"

He nodded, looking back out at the sky. "I grew up out in a small town. I'd go camping with my dad, and we'd spend weekends just hanging out in the woods. I used to love watching the sunset, listening to the sounds of mother nature as nighttime fell. Between that, and staring up at the stars, I used to spend quite a bit of my summers outside." A warm smile crossed his face as the memories flitted through his mind.

Seeing this, Sarah nodded, relenting. "Ok, we could do that. But we'd get a better view of the sunset if we went up further on the wall, on the overlook."

He shot the Sentinel a skeptical look. "Isn't it kind of close to where super mutants tend to shoot at the walls?"

She smiled, before replying, "No, it's far enough away from the outer wall that it's relatively safe. It's just on the top of the inner wall, where the muties can't see."

Standing from his seat, Mike stepped around the table, and pulled the chair out for his date. "Well then, lead the way." She nodded, and the two of them walked further up the wall, where makeshift stairs had been added in by someone. They made it to the top of the wall, just as the sun began to near the horizon. Pushing a piece of rubble to one side, he sat down on the floor of the wall, leaning against a large slab of debris. Shaking her head, Sarah smiled as she sat down next to him, leaning against him.

Mike hesitated for only a moment, before putting an arm around the Sentinel. She leaned into his touch, resting her head inside the crook of his arm. Together, they sat there and watched the sun set below the horizon, the sky flaring a myriad of red, orange, and yellow hues. He wasn't sure if the radiation caused it, or lingering dust left in the atmosphere from when the nukes had originally dropped. For the time being, Mike didn't really care.

As the sky grew dark, and the air began to chill, he felt Sarah shiver slightly underneath his arm. He looked down at her, only to find her looking up at him at the same moment. Neither moved, nor breathed, as they locked eyes. As he looked into her eyes, he would later attest to feeling the sensation of sparks dancing up and down his spine and brain. He slowly leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. She lifted her own face, her head tilting slightly, mouth parting.

In a single moment, Mike forgot that he was sitting on the ruins of the pentagon, over two centuries removed. He forgot he was on an earth that wasn't his own. The only thing he knew at that moment was that his lips were pressed against the lips of a beautiful woman who liked him, her body pushing into his side as they sat together in the chill of the night.

As they eventually pulled away for air, Mike found himself shuddering, unable to control his body's reaction. As Sarah looked back up at him, she smiled, which caused him to smile. Before he knew what was happening, she was kissing him again, maneuvering herself around until he realized she was straddling his lap. As they kissed, he practically jumped out of his skin when he felt a blast of cold air against his side, his recon armor being unfastened by a pair of hands not his own.

He gently, but firmly pushed Sarah back, his eyes questioning. "Sarah… hold on… you… I… wha…?"

She looked at him, wide eyed, before glancing down at his armor. She seemed to retreat in on herself, before standing suddenly. "I-I should go. I… uh… thank you for, um, dinner… I…" She suddenly took off, quickly pacing down the stairs. Knowing something was wrong, Mike quickly fastened his armor, before following after her.

"Sarah? Sarah, wait!"

He kept a decent pace, following a short distance behind her as she retreated to her private quarters. As she closed the door on him, he came to a grinding halt, barely managing to keep from planting his face into the door itself. He lightly knocked on the door. He heard her muffled voice from within. "Go away, Mike."

He spoke in a hushed voice. "Sarah, I'd like to talk, if that's ok with you. If you'd rather I left, though, I understand."

There was no reply at first, but eventually the handle turned, the door slowly creaking open. He immediately became concerned as he saw the red rings around Sarah's eyes, indicating that she had been crying. "What do you want, Michael?"

Feeling somewhat more timid than before, he asked, "M-may I come in?" After a moment of silence, she nodded, stepping away to let him in. Just as soon as the door closed, he began to speak, "Look, I'm sorry if I upset you, I just didn't know what to do, and I just wanted you to have a good time-"

He fell quiet as she placed a finger onto his lips, silencing him. "It wasn't you, Mike."

He gently pulled her hand away, taking it within his own two hands. "What's wrong?"

Sarah let out a sigh as she led him over to her bed, the two of them sitting down on it, as it was the only piece of furniture large enough for two people in her room. She took in a deep breath, before speaking. "I fell in love with someone else before you, Mike. We took things slow, and had barely had more than a few dinner dates. We had wanted to take things further, but…" Her breathing became shaky as she continued. "We never got that chance. He was killed in a super mutant ambush. I tried to push my feelings away, lock them up so I'd never get hurt like that again." Sarah smiled as she looked at him. "Then you showed up."

Mike's eyes widened in realization. "You didn't want the same thing to happen with me?"

She nodded. "You're the first decent man I've met since… well, you're the first decent man except for him. One who actually saw me as a human being, as a person; not a figurehead, or a soldier, or some kind of untouchable. I wanted to share myself with you, while I still can." She smiled a sad smile. "The wasteland doesn't give many chances for happiness, and I didn't want to let my second chance slip between my fingers."

She looked away, as though she were ashamed. Gently, gingerly, Mike pressed his hand to her cheek, turning her head to look up at him. With a kind smile, he leaned down, and pressed his lips to hers. As the kiss deepened, he began to slowly, softly push her down onto the bed, to which she willingly obliged. The night quickly passed for both of them, until they both fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace.

* * *

A/N: yes, I've stuttered before in a high stress moment like that. Stop judging me.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: No, I'm not dead, though I almost wished I were this semester. Word of advice: don't take two internships at the same time if you can avoid it. Your life absolutely disappears for three months.

* * *

Fallout: Displacement

Chapter 6

Mike let out a sigh as consciousness slowly returned to him. Opening his eyes, he smiled as he looked down at the sleeping form of Sarah, her bare body pressed against his own. He would have been content to simply watch her sleep, but after a moment, he sensed another presence in the room. Looking up, his heart rate spiked. There, leaning against the far wall, stood a tall man in a brown trench coat and a black fedora, a scoped .44 magnum visible on his hip. The man looked up at him, and smiled, a predatory smile.

"Rise and shine, Mr. Thompson. Rise and shine."

* * *

Mike jumped as he woke, his adrenaline pumping. His eyes scanned the room, looking for the mysterious stranger who had appeared in his dream, but the man was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, he laid back down, putting his arm around Sarah's naked form. As he did so, she snuggled closer to him.

Glancing at his pip-boy, he nearly groaned aloud, realizing how late it was. Gently, he shook Sarah's shoulder. She let out a gentle moan, before muttering, "I don't want to get up yet."

He smiled as he replied, "That may be, beautiful, but it's already mid-morning. So if you were hoping to keep this secret, I highly doubt you'll have much chance now."

Sarah turned, her face betraying her confusion, though her eyes were barely open yet. "Why would I want to keep this secret?"

Mike shrugged as he lowered his gaze. "I just figured you wouldn't want people to know, so it wouldn't interfere with your duties, or people's perception of you."

The woman smiled as she tilted his head up with a finger. "I don't care what they think. As far as I'm concerned, you're mine now. They can all piss off if they don't like it."

Michael would have replied, but she pressed her lips to his, rolling over until she was on top of him, robbing him of any chance to come up with an intelligent response. Coherent thought quickly followed in retreating from him as passion took over.

* * *

Letting out a sigh, Mike fastened his recon armor back in place, doing his best to ignore the various joints and muscles that were aching and generally protesting to any and all movement. Glancing over his shoulder, he got one last glance at Sarah's bare back as she slid her own recon armor on. Smirking, he spoke, "I'm pretty sure you're trying to kill me. I can't prove it yet, but the evidence is there."

She smiled as she turned around, stepping over and placing a kiss on his lips. "Are you complaining?"

"Hell no."

Her smile grew as she stepped back. "Good."

Glancing down at his pip-boy, Mike rolled his eyes. "If we hurry, we might make lunch."

The Sentinel's eyes grew wide. "It's that late?!"

"Yes Sarah, it's that late. I tried letting you know the time earlier, but you decided that time was better spent pouncing onto me."

She swore, before picking up her speed at preparing, quickly tying her hair back into a ponytail. "Shit; I have reports to make, I have to brief the Pride on an assault out in sector twelve next week-"

Mike interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips. "Relax. It's not the end of the world. Let's just go grab a quick bite, then you can hit the ground running. Deal?"

With a forced sigh, Sarah nodded. "Alright. Lets go."

As Michael opened the door, he noticed something taped over the middle of the door. Looking at it, he smiled, before chuckling to himself. "I think you can relax now."

"What are you talking about?" Sarah looked around him, her eyes falling on the sign taped on the door. In large, bold letters, the sign read 'DO NOT DISTURB, BY PENALTY OF DEATH.' It was signed, in slightly smaller letters, with the name 'Knight Captain Dusk.' Sarah's eyes narrowed, as she muttered, "I'm going to kill her."

Mike just shook his head, his amusement obvious. As he turned, he noticed an armored figure standing next to Sarah's door, standing guard. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Let me guess… Colvin?" The figure shook his head, not turning to look at him. "Oh, wait, no verbal response… you must be Gallows."

The man nodded.

He continued, curious, "Were you standing guard there all night?"

He nodded again.

"Did you spy on us while we were having dinner last night?"

Another nod.

"So you saw what happened with... uh, Sarah and I…"

Gallows finally shifted his gaze, looking towards Mike, before nodding yet again.

Repressing a nervous swallow, he asked, "I'm assuming that since you didn't murder me in my sleep, I didn't do anything wrong by your view?"

This time, the other man shook his head instead of nodding.

"…Please tell me that everyone in the Citadel doesn't already know about this."

Gallows merely looked forward again, a single quiet laugh being the only answer. Michael let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead in frustration. Turning to look at Sarah, all she offered was a helpless shrug, the woman looking slightly off-put over the thought of everyone already knowing about her and Mike. Sarah eventually turned towards Gallows. "Thank you for… guarding my room… you can go now." The Specialist nodded and left without uttering a word. The Sentinel turned towards Mike, resting her head on his chest with a groan. "I can already tell this is just going to be a wonderful day."

Glancing both ways down the hall, Mike lifted her head by her chin, grinning. "We could always go back into your room and pretend we didn't come out here."

Sarah smiled wearily. "As much as that sounds like a good idea right now, I'm starving, and I need a break, before _I _break."

Mike smiled back as he gestured down the hall. "Well then, after you."

It only took a few minutes for the two of them to walk across the B ring, around into the A ring, both quietly stepping in the Lyon's Den. Sarah led the way, Michael following behind her. He did his best to keep a straight face and not show his annoyance as half of the members of the Pride looked at Sarah and he, grins on their faces.

As the two of them sat down at the table, Mike felt a hand land on his shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Kodiak standing there, smiling. "So, how was your date last night? From what I've heard it seemed to have went well."

The man began laughing as Michael's head dropped slightly, his face turning beet red. Dusk's voice sounded out from the other side of the room. "Come on, guys, cut them some slack. It's not like some of you haven't had your own _special nights_ of your own."

Dusk smiled as more than a few of the men inside the room began shuffling slightly, awkwardly coughing. Both Mike and Sarah began smiling at that, before digging in to their breakfast. The ambient noise in the room began to rise again as conversations picked back up, letting the two of them sit comfortably and finish their meal.

As Michael finished, he patted Sarah's hand. "I'm going to go talk to your father about my first assignment as a Knight."

Nodding, she replied, "Go ahead; I've got some work to catch up on anyways."

Standing up, he quickly took care of the trash left over from his meal, and walked out of the Den, moving through the A ring towards the B ring, hoping to catch the Elder in his quarters. He received a few congratulations as he walked through the halls from other Knights, causing him to smile at the praise.

Only a few moments later, he found himself standing in front of Elder Lyons' quarters. However, the two guards normally present were missing, and he could hear raised voices inside the room. Stepping closer, he could make out Vargas' voice, albeit muffled.

"…_No offense sir, but if you are going to accuse me of-"_

The Elder interrupted him, "_Knight-Captain Vargas, when Samuel was killed in the field, I did not question it. However, you requesting to take Michael on a mission, the day after he has become a Knight, raises questions in my mind. Your request is denied."_

"_But sir-"_

"_It is denied, and that is final! Even if current circumstances were not questionable, I already have a mission planned for Knight Thompson. Do you have anything further to discuss?"_

There was a brief pause, before a seemingly gritted reply. "_No sir._"

"_Then you are dismissed, Knight-Captain._"

Mike quickly backed away from the door, ducking into the next room, just as the door to the Elder's room creaked open, a set of fast moving steps impacting against the floor rapidly, the owner of said footsteps quickly leaving the area. He waited until he couldn't hear the boots echoing through the hall anymore, before leaving the room and stepping up to Elder Lyons' door. Knocking, he waited until he heard his reply.

"Come in." Stepping through, he noticed the Elder's features seem to smooth out from what appeared to be a frown, curving up into a smile. "Ah, Knight Thompson; what brings you here this _afternoon_?"

Wincing at the knowing look the Elder was giving him, as well as the emphasis he put on the time of day, he sheepishly replied, "I was, uh, just wanting to talk to you about my first assignment."

Lyons' positive demeanor shrunk slightly, before nodding. "I have arranged a small group of soldiers to travel to Rivet City to make a supply run. It is not too common of an occurrence, but at times either we, or the leadership of Rivet City contacts the other, and we work out a trade for supplies. The relationship is tenuous at best, but necessary. I want you to travel with this group, for extra security."

Mike nodded his ascent. "Sure, that sound simple enough. Anything in particular you want me to do once I get there?"

"No, simply complete the transaction, then return home at your leisure. As you have never been to Rivet City, I have told the commanding officer of this run that your group will have a few hours to spend inside the city to do as you wish."

With a raised brow, he asked, "If I may, who will be commanding this supply run?"

The Elder's face took on an almost mischievous look as he replied, "Sentinel Lyons will lead this expedition. The Pride is currently on a rest period, freeing up the Sentinel, as well as other members of the Pride, to take on side missions as they choose. Sarah has already agreed to lead this operation."

Mike did his best to school his features, keeping his surprise and annoyance to himself. "Yes sir; I'll report to the Sentinel right away."

Before he could move, however, the Elder held up his hand. "Just a moment." In the blink of an eye, Elder Lyons transformed from a wizened leader to a tired, aging father. "I just want to tell you to please be careful. The Wasteland is not a forgiving place, and I do not want my daughter hurt because you weren't paying enough attention to keep your head firmly situated between your shoulders."

Michael nodded, "I understand, sir. I have no intention of having my time with your daughter cut short, not by raiders, super mutants, or anything else." He made to turn, but stopped, looking back. "If I may ask, what was Knight-Captain Vargas talking about me for? I happened to hear my name dropped when I came to the door."

Elder Owens paled slightly, but put on a somewhat forced smile. "It is nothing that you need to be concerned about. Vargas was merely... discussing his concerns with me, and I will make sure it does not cause any problems for you. Was there anything else that you wished to discuss?"

Mike shook his head. "No sir. Thank you for your time."

"It is no problem, Knight Thompson. My door is open at any time."

With that, Mike turned and left, heading back towards the Den. As he walked, someone stepped in front of him, causing him to stop. "Hey Mike, nice job making it into the Brotherhood's ranks."

Stepping back, he smiled as he recognized Jackson, the only police office who had arrived at the Citadel from their original world. "Thanks, Jackson. Have any of the others planned on trying the initiation?"

He nodded, "Most of the others, actually. They were waiting to make sure you could make it before they tried. Monica and Dan won't, though. They're too old for that, and besides, they've already been welcomed down with the scribes."

Nodding, Michael patted his shoulder. "Good to know. Look, we can talk later; I have to go talk with someone about my first assignment."

Jackson nodded, stepping out of the way. "Sure; we can talk later."

Continuing on, Mike didn't stop until he arrived back at the Den, only to find the same group of people all staring at him, knowing grins across their faces. Sarah's grin, however, was by far the largest. Narrowing his eyes, he spoke, "You set me up; you knew exactly what my first mission was going to be."

The only response he received from the entire group was a round of laugher, at his expense. He focused solely on Sarah, whose grin was almost ear to ear. "Of course I did. It was supposed to be a surprise, but you just had to go and ask my father about it, didn't you?"

With a sigh, Mike just shook his head. "Thanks for the heads up." After a moment, he regained his composure. "When do we leave, Sentinel?"

Sensing his change to a more professional tone, Sarah matched him, sliding into her role as his superior. "We leave tomorrow morning, 0800 hours. Late enough for the Deathclaws to be in their dens, early enough for the Mirelurks to not be out hunting yet. Because we're leaving so early, you probably should head down to the armory, and pick up weapons before dinner today."

With a nod, Michael replied, "0800 hours tomorrow morning, got it."

As he made to leave, he heard Sarah's voice as he turned, "I'll see you at dinner, Knight Thompson. Don't be late."

He smiled as he walked out, not turning around. "I wouldn't dream of it, Sentinel."

* * *

It didn't take Mike long to get to his quarters, quickly grabbing his gear that he had left over. He ran his hands over the shotgun he had held onto since the day he had arrived in the Capital Wasteland, before letting out a quiet sigh, muttering to himself, "As nice a gun as this is, I'll likely never use a shotgun. May as well sell it for the caps."

Slinging the gun over his shoulder, he took ahold of his meager bag of caps and walked out the door towards the armory. He only had a few dozen caps, minor wagers he had won in games and bets against other initiates. He knew it wouldn't last him very long outside of the Citadel, and wanted to try to acquire more caps. As he walked through the halls, various Brothers and Sisters of Steel gave him their congratulations, which he replied in thanks to each of them.

Finally, after what felt like the umpteenth person congratulating him, he made it into the laboratory. He quickly moved into the armory, trying to avoid running into anyone else who might hold him up. Stepping into the back room, he found himself face to face with Knight Captain Durga. She looked up from a laser rifle she had on the counter, momentarily halting her polishing of the gun. "Yeah?"

Clearing his throat, Mike stepped forward. "I was told to come to you to pick up weapons?"

Durga nodded, setting down her rag. "You must be the new guy; congrats. So, ground rules: every Knight is given one weapon of choice from the armory, free of charge, that they own. That way they can modify it or tweak it or whatever, instead of having to return it to the armory after every Op. If you lose it or break it beyond repair, you can only get another free one after three months. This is to ensure our soldiers have the tools they need to try to survive, but actually take care of their weapon. If you need more weapons, you have to pay for them. The first thousand rounds of ammo for any gun are free, but after that you pay half the value of caps for them." She smirked as she added, "A nice perk for being a member. Parts for maintenance are also free."

With a raised eyebrow, Michael replied, "Wow; that seems pretty good. Why such a good deal for Brotherhood members?"

The Knight Captain merely shrugged. "Elder's standing orders."

He nodded, before unslinging his shotgun, setting it on the counter next to the laser rifle. "What would the value on this be? If it's worth something decent, I'd like to sell it and maybe get a second weapon, depending on cost."

Durga let out a low whistle, picking up the shotgun and examining it, checking the chamber and other components to the gun. "Fully automatic shotgun, twelve gauge, with an ammo storage rack on the side. Damn; as much as I'd like this beauty, I think I should advise you to hold onto this, especially if you end up stationed out in the ruins. It'll burn through ammo faster than a drunk with liquor, but it'd be worth it."

Mike shot the woman a quizzical look. "Really? I've never been much of a shotgun person; I usually work with ranged weaponry, and by ranged, I mean sniping kinds of range."

The Knight Captain nodded her head in agreement. "I can understand that, and even agree with you. But even our resident snipers would think twice before parting with a gun like this."

Letting out a sigh, he took the shotgun back. "Ok, I'll keep the gun for now. Although that doesn't solve my more immediate problem of needing caps."

"Did you grab any loot from those raiders you ran into during your Trial?"

Brow furrowing, he replied, "No. Should I have?"

Smirking, Durga replied in the affirmative. "From here on out, when you kill someone or something and have the chance, loot the body. I'll pay fair price on any bounty brought in from missions or patrols." Standing up straight from leaning against the counter, she continued. "So, what kind of gun were you looking to get for your standard issue?"

Without missing a beat, he replied, "A sniper rifle."

The Knight Captain merely smiled wider. "I figured as much." She paused for a moment, before lowering her voice. "I don't usually do this, but since you're new and just passed your Trial into the Brotherhood, I'll throw in a silencer for free. I don't usually get mods very often for guns, especially the high quality ones, but consider this my 'welcome to the club' gift."

Mike was stunned into silence at the gesture, but managed to find his voice as the woman passed a sniper rifle through the hole in the fence barricade, as well as the silencer, a box full of .308 rounds and magazines to match. "Thank you! It's certainly more than I expected."

Knight Captain Durga simply waved it off. "Don't mention it. Now scram, before someone comes by and thinks I've gone soft, giving out free stuff."

Nodding his thanks again, Michael quickly left the armory, and headed back for his quarters, ready to work on his new rifle.

* * *

A few hours later found Mike sitting on the floor, the gun in multiple pieces in front of him. He was on his fifth disassembly and reassembly pattern, memorizing how each piece of the gun fit together. He had learned, both in training and in the field, that the worst thing that could happen out in the Wasteland was for a soldier's gun to fail, and said soldier not know how to fix, or even figure out the problem. Also, it was a way for Michael to let out his more obsessive side, simply going through the motion of doing something repeatedly to let his mind wander.

It was during this that someone knocked on his door. Looking up from the pieces, he spoke out, "Come in."

As the door slid open, he smiled as he saw Sarah come into view. His smile, however, turned to a look of surprise as he realized she was holding two plates of food. She looked down at the floor, and shook her head as she pushed the door closed with her foot. "I figured there had to be a good reason you didn't show up for dinner."

Michael smacked his forehead, "Damn; sorry about that. I was just so focused on memorizing the pieces to my new rifle and-"

Sarah interrupted him, her smile returning. "Relax. I'm not really that surprised you forgot, now that I know what you were doing." She deftly lowered herself onto the floor, sitting Indian style with her legs crossed, keeping the food balanced on the two plates. "I figured since you didn't come to dinner, I'd just bring dinner to you."

He nodded as he took one of the plates from her. "Thanks for that. If you hadn't stopped by, I'd probably have kept working with this thing for another few hours. When I get really focused on something, I just kind of lose track of time."

Sarah's head bobbed as she took a bite of some sort of sandwich. "I noticed that. Is that just a personality quirk or something?"

Mike shrugged, picking up a wrap of some kind. "Not really sure; it's something I've always dealt with…" As he took a bite, his brow furrowed. Chewing, he asked, "What kind of meat is this?"

Sarah smirked as she replied, "That would be shredded Molerat meat, doused in whatever spices the cooks could find today."

Taking another bite, he nodded in appreciation. Swallowing, he spoke, "It's actually not that bad."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "You mean you actually _like_ that stuff?"

"Well, it's not the best meat I've ever had, but yeah, it's pretty good, once you get past how tough it is. The fact the cooks shred the meat up first helps a lot."

She shot him a skeptical look, before rolling her eyes. "You've got a hell of a constitution if you can stomach that crap."

Mike shrugged, smirking as he shot back, "Well, my dad always did tell me I have a cast iron stomach. Foods that bother most people hardly affect me at all." His face took on a thoughtful look. "I guess that would explain why it never bothered me to drink milk right after root beer…"

One eyebrow raised, Sarah spoke, "I'm not even sure what root beer is, but it doesn't sound like it goes well with milk of any sort."

"Not really; it's a type of soda, kind of like Nuka Cola, but without the radiation."

The rest of the meal passed in amicable silence, in order to finish the food while it was still warm. Setting the plates aside, Sarah asked, "So I see you went with the longest range weapon you could get your hands on."

Michael nodded as his hands went back down to the parts, quickly reassembling the gun. "Yeah, I did. The way I figure, I'd like to keep as much distance between myself and whoever is shooting at me. For everything else, I can just use my shotgun. I'm practically stuck with the damn thing; Knight Captain Durga wouldn't even buy it off of me. I guess she figured it was too nice a gun or something."

Sarah's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? Durga turning down a pristine weapon? That's something I didn't think I'd ever hear." She fell quiet in thought as she watched him finish reassembling the sniper rifle. "You know, you're right. It is pretty relaxing just watching you work with that weapon."

"Yeah, it helps me focus, get my mind centered," he replied as he stood, moving to put the gun away in his footlocker. He heard Sarah stand as well, but didn't think anything of it until he suddenly felt a pair of hands wrap around his midsection.

"Well then, lets see how well those hands work elsewhere, shall we?"

As Mike spun, he tried to reply, but once again found himself unable to as a pair of lips met his, silencing him before he could even speak. Idly, a small part of his mind wondered if Sarah would always be like this, but the rest of his mind told that part to shut up as the woman's recon armor quickly disappeared.

* * *

Michael found himself standing in what appeared to be a black void, his vision only extending a short distance before fading away into obscurity. He spun in every direction, looking for anything that could help him figure out where he was. "Hello? Is anyone there?!"

A voice sounded out behind him, causing Mike to spin around. "Hello, Michael."

As he turned, he found himself face to face with the man from his previous dream, wearing the tan trench coat, with a brown fedora and a gleaming .44 magnum. This time, however, he was holding a lit cigarette in his hand, calmly puffing away at it. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man smiled, "Michael, you know who I am, at least in name."

Narrowing his eyes, he replied, "You're the Mysterious Stranger. That doesn't tell me your motives, or how I'm involved with them."

Nodding in his direction, the Stranger responded, "Very true, you make an excellent point." He inhaled on the cigarette, before continuing, "My… employers are pushing me to find a solution to a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

Still smiling, the Mysterious Stranger shrugged. "A problem with the timeline; or rather, how it progresses. As it stands, within a few hundred years humanity would repeat the mistakes of the Great War, but this time it would destroy the world completely."

Raising a single eyebrow, Mike asked, "And this affects me… how, exactly?"

"You don't get it, yet, do you? You're part of the solution, Michael. Why else do you think you landed where you did, instead of out in the middle of space? Or in the center of a star?"

Mike held up his hands, taking a step back. "Hold on. You mean to tell me that I'm somehow a part of some solution to keep humanity from blowing the earth into tiny little pieces?!"

The Stranger nodded as he took a puff. "Yes."

"How? What difference can one man make?"

Shrugging, the Mysterious Stranger tossed away his cigarette. "It only takes one man to change everything; one man can start an avalanche, begin a revolution, spark a renaissance, or set off a war. After all…" He smirked as he lowered the edge of his fedora over his eyes, and his body began to shimmer, as though it were disappearing. "The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world."

With that, the Mysterious Stranger vanished, the strange realm disappearing with him.

* * *

As Sarah woke the next morning, she found herself alone in the bed. Pulling the thin blanket to cover her bare body, she glanced around the room, her eyes falling on the hunched over form sitting on the floor. Her brow furrowing in confusion, she spoke out, "Mike?"

He looked up at her, before a very slight smile graced his features. "Hey, sorry if I woke you. I was just getting some work done on my power armor."

She rubbed her eyes as she sat up. "What time is it?"

Glancing down at his Pip-Boy, he replied, "0530."

"Why are you up this early? Couldn't you sleep?"

Mike looked back down at his power armor, shaking his head. "Nah; just had a bad dream is all. Decided I could get some tweaking done with my armor, instead of lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. The music helped."

At his mentioning it, Sarah noticed a very quiet strain of music coming out of Michael's Pip-Boy; GNR, from the sound of it. "You could have woken me up. I could have tried to help."

He nodded, still working away. "I know; but I figured since we have a supply run to make, and especially since you're in charge of the Op, you needed your sleep. Besides, I think I've about figured out how to add night vision into my helmet's visor. It'll take longer than I have this morning, but I can work on it later." Finally, he turned around, looking back up at her. "You can go ahead and get a little more sleep; I'll wake you up in another hour, so you have time to get ready."

She shook her head as she pushed the blanket aside. "No, I'm already up. I'll just get ready now." As she walked, she smirked as she noticed Michael's eyes following her form. Stepping over to him, she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. "Sorry, Mike; not this morning. The last thing we need is to be distracted or tired on an Op."

He nodded as she walked across the room to her recon armor. "I know; doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view." He smiled as her laughter filled the room. That sound alone helped expel most of his worry over the dream he'd had. "Who all is going along with us on this run?"

Sarah grunted softly as she slid on her recon armor, jumping up and down slightly to get it to fit properly. "Just a pair of initiates, for training purposes. We're not expecting heavy resistance this run, so we're running lighter on the patrol than usual." Noticing his furrowed brow, she turned to face him fully, sealing her armor to her neckline. "Is something wrong with that?"

Mike quickly schooled his features, shaking his head as he rapidly put the pieces of his armor back in place, beginning to assemble it to his body. "No, nothing's wrong. Just would have thought we'd have more people. Either way, we'll make due. I'm going to go pick up my ammo. Meet up for breakfast in half an hour?"

"Sure. See you then."

* * *

Breakfast passed by Michael in a blur, as did the rest of the morning. If Sarah, or anyone else for that matter, happened to notice his distractedness, none said anything to him. Even as the group slowly filed out through the front gate of the Citadel, he couldn't shake this feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure what had brought it about, but it had seemed to be gnawing at him since he had woken that morning.

He had heard the names of the two initiates as they had loaded up a pack Brahmin, but he hadn't been paying much attention at the time, and thus did not know their names. He was content to simply walk next to Sarah, knowing that both initiates were bringing up the rear, walking behind the Brahmin. He held his sniper rifle in his hands, keeping his head swiveling back and forth, watching for any movement.

They crossed the Potomac, walking across one of the few relatively intact bridges left spanning the water, with ease. Continuing down the road that eventually led to Rivet City was also met with no resistance. Michael's gut continued to churn the farther along the road they went. Passing by a building that had always housed super mutants in-game proved empty, just like everything else around them. That alone had Mike's nerves on edge, his eyes nearly straining to make out any motion.

As they neared the short bridge that led to the Jefferson Memorial and Project Purity, the sound of a mechanical hissing caught his attention, causing him to spin around. He felt a cold chill pass over him, as both of the initiates took their helmets off, their eyes wide and unseeing. Simultaneously, as one voice, they both spoke out in a monotone voice, "Prepare for unforeseen consequences."

Suddenly, the world around them erupted in gunfire, both initiates taking rounds to their unprotected skulls. Grabbing ahold of Sarah's arm, Michael yanked both of them off of the bridge, diving into the murky waters of the Potomac.

* * *

A/N: I could have kept going, but I felt like a good cliff-hangar for my return.


End file.
